Informal Dance at the Parker House, restricted to those of the Mid-Off School. . . . For those of you who don't know, the Parker House Roof is not open to Boston's salty breezes, so repack those woolies. It is really a smooth place to dance--with all the comforts of home--a cocktail bar attached, that is. Midshipmen and Senior Officers are invited to the function, which gives promise of being just what we have all been waiting for.
Year Book Out Soon
The Year Book for the combined Junior and Senior Classes will be ready for distribution about two weeks hence. If the galley proofs are any criteria, it will be far better than we had planned. There will be an announcement made in the next few days as to the time collections for this priceless annual will be made. Because of the deposit which must be made to the printer, some advance payment will have to be made.
Playoffs Coming Up
The Softball League is almost at an end. Because of the games being played today, some of which will be "crooshul," the final standings and therefore the teams that will compete in the playoffs cannot be announced. However, it can be stated that the playoff schedule will be posted the first of the coming week.
Here and There
Off and On the Base: With the fall and the so-called social season just beginning, some of the lads jumped the gun over the past weekend. Wellesley an its new Freshman class was the scene of the most activity, as a howling mob swep down upon the poor defenseless little girlies. Ed Johnson and Art Hein challenge that last statement. It seems that both of these boys chanced upon the same young lady. While no willow thing, she was a girl, and that's something. Net result of the encounter: two badly bruised young Ensigns. It seen Miss Wellesley was the captain of the crew up there, and had no mean handshake.
The "good time" boys shot down New York over the weekend. Green and gory are the tales they tell. Over Company 4 the fellas are all agog over the celebrity in their midst--a full-fledged cinema hero, no less. The object of the adulation, particularly from such cowpuncher worshippers as Pryor, Price and Rogers, is J. B. Morris, who in pre- war days was that grade-B hero, Gene Buck, the singing cowboy.
Not only are the Cambridge police bothered these days by teen-age delinquency, hoodlumism, vandalism and fallen arches, but now, worse than over, a band of foreign conspirators, a sort of Bund, is growing up around the Business School, latest reports show. The new group, all in uniform, are called the "Black Ties" and are led by a domineering little man named Tito Bizal. At various hours of the day their haunting battle song sweeps up through the Square, and the green statute of Jawn Harvard gets greener as it hears:
Do hoce Boston Bit
Ta morro pivo pit
Za si Boston Si
Na pivo vijani.
Hoy.
Vinca, vinca, vinca romina
Vinca, vinca, vinca romina.
Incidentally, Tito Bizal is in the threes of plans for a tennis tournament between Companies 3 and 4. More on this will be announced later