‘4

‘\pyi 7

ALPHA GAMMA DELTOIDS
IN ACTION

_ We were asked to submit a story. The
lads swing into high on this Christmas
stuff,

"Alright, boys, take it away."

"What shell we give them fellers?" I
queried.

"Write a yarn about a starving
tramp out in the snow. You know -
kid's party and the old boy lookin' in

the window with tears streaming down

his face as he gazes at his baby
daughter adopted by rich outfit years
ago and ----"

"Pipe down, Brick" I hissed, “that's
not funny or even original.So roll your
hoop!"

"I know! I read something in "Yes
Squire" -- you know, the magazine for
men. This was pretty hot stuff. It
was all about ----"

"Yes, Buck, I know, I know" I cut in
firmly, "Some other time perhaps." This
meeting was getting out of hand. I gath
ered myself together for a real pep
talk. There was at least a good foot
to spare between the cuff ofmy pants
and the floor as I gave them a terrific
hoist. I assumed my Bill Powell manner,

"Now listen men." I uttered solemly.
I was pleased as I heard the sonorous
tones echo around the room, “We are
faced with a task, an undertaking of
sizable magnitude." Their faces grew a
trifle more serious, I say a trifle
naturally, as anything requiring a
little thought or serious application is
quite beyond these lunkheads. "We don't
want stories dealing with Machine Gun
Kelly and the 49th St, Feud, or The

Truth about the Ypres Salient. Ten
Nights in a Bathroom is out too,” Un-
consciously I was slipping into my fav-
orite Cagney pose as I paced up and
down peering into each almost serious
face. Iwas beginning to hit my stride
as I went on with colossal patience.

"This is to be a story orsome form of
article with Christmas asits background
~- You know, people send presents. They
celebrate with a turkey dinner or two,
Holly,decorations, good cigars and wine
and all that guff.Most people enjoy it.
That's Christmas, see."

A few of them began to lookalmost in-
telligent - almost. Years of frustrated
hope that one day my crew would improve
caused the flutter of optimism to vanish,
They started to coughand snuffle around.
I had to work harder yet I could see.
"This story is forthe Palette. The gals
and guys that read it are artists,see."
I drew an imaginary picture of a cow in
the air for them - "They draw and paint
pictures - like this.”

Of course one can't expect the football
crew to know what goes on in their own
campus, but whoever picked them to
help me on the magazine is my unknown
foe to the day I pay my library fines.
"Now I want IDEAS ~ you can--" Someone
waving a paw in my direction, It was
Chuck, "Say," he rumbled. "Say -- I
got it -~ it was the new play you was
drawing with your finger - you know -
45, 20 shift, 80 - 35 hep - shift ---,"
There was only one thing to do and I
did it. The baseball bat is only taken
out from under the desk for such occas-
ions.

With Chuck lying quiet and still in
the corner, I. started bravely. once
more, This time I worked some pathos
into my voice -- this was usually my
last stand +- it had stood the test of.
time. Placing my arms around two of
the boys' shoulders, I stood there - a
dramatic figure.

"Boys - I'm asking for your help. If
you fail me in my hour of need, your
coach goss down in school history a
disgrace =- the one who failed Alpha
Gamma Deltoid - the one who failed to
get a story out for the magazine --
think..of 44." My volo. eank. to. «
whisper. "Boys - it's up to the Grid
Crew - what shall it be?"

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