Dean Donham of the Business School and his associates, acting as a jury to select the best advertisement of the year, will face a difficult task when they endeavor to choose the winners of the Bok Award. Picture the dilemma of the able jurists when forced to decide whether the suggestive appeal of a silk-stockinged maiden is capable of selling more merchandise than the almost absolute purity of floating soap. But it cannot be expected that the choice will be as simple a problem as all that. Too much is at stake.

The jury will sit for months upon furniture from Michigan. Earnest debates will only be interrupted long enough to bolt down meals prepared with advertised ingredients. That schoolgirl complexion will fade, and unkempt beards, which would defy, the most formidable blade, will hide the beauty of late model collars.

All the better known advertisers will of course maintain lobbies to influence the vote of the jury. Trade and Mark will be present, accompanied by their sister, Elsie, the stenographer's friend. The three wise men of the East will parade in all their glory in an endeavor to turn the vote of Klan members of the jury to Kollege Konstructed Klothes.

But, as in all such affairs, the voice of the great unwashed, crying without the gates, must be taken into consideration; and since this is the case, it is almost a foregone conclusion that the palm will eventually be awarded to that Messiah who first awoke a slumbering world, through his pictures, to the criminal impropriety of eating olives with a fork.