Art and Design Commons^™

Athletics' Place In Education, Robert R. Mundell

Manuscripts

The question asked by college students, college athletes, college faculty members, and the world at large is, "What is the place athletics should hold in our present (lay educational system, or do athletics belong at all in the college program?" The question is a natural one because there exist arguments pro and con. I believe the arguments for athletics far outweigh those listed against them.

A Nobody, Rosalie Elkin

Manuscripts

The little flag hanging in the window had turned dirty with age. Now it didn't stick out like a sore thumb as it had when it was new. The white field surrounding the gold star was a dingy gray, almost black, matching the color of the house to which it belonged. The house was like most of the houses in the Negro district of the city. It didn't have more than three rooms - two bedrooms and a kitchen that served both as a living and dining room. There was no wallpaper covering the walls and no carpet covering the …

Sam Vello, Lena Willkie

Manuscripts

Sam was a foreigner employed at the steel mill in my home town but no one seemed to know his nationality. He was one of the "wops" which meant that he was from one of those mysterious countries in southeastern Europe. This was obvious from his physical characteristics and his accent. Sam was short and stocky with the heavy shoulders of one who earns his living by manual labor.

Aesthetic Artiste, Norma Long

Manuscripts

"Hello there, Norma. Can you wait a few seconds while I finish?" asked Bomar Cramer, Indianapolis' foremost pianist, as he suddenly emerged from his studio into his reception room. He extended a firm, warm hand into which I meekly put my cold one, and then he quickly disappeared again into his studio as I faintly murmured, "Why, certainly." I had been waiting for Mr. Cramer for about five minutes, and during this time, I surveyed his outer surroundings. The room was rather dark and was entered from the outside through a heavily-draped glass partitioned door. Directly opposite the chair in …

Smokey, Jack Stauch

Manuscripts

"It won't be long now; the zero hour is approaching. Where can that crew chief of mine be? He is probably down at that pub with that O'Brien girl he met the other day. He should be here to supervise my feeding. Ah! here comes my dinner."

A Discourse On Cats, Dorothy Wilson

Manuscripts

A cat is an animal. Zoologically speaking, a cat is a Felis domestica belonging to the family Felidae of the phylum Chordata. According to Webster, a cat is a carnivorous domesticated quadruped. The encyclopedia exposes the fact that the cat receives its heritage from a long line of tigers, lynxes, pumas, leopards, and cheetahs. Sardonically speaking, a cat is a woman. To me cats are not discernable, and I find that in any size, shape, or form, cats annoy me. In the first place; cats make me sneeze. That is, the Felis domesticas make me sneeze; the Homo sapiens irritate …

Saturday In Downtown Indianapolis, Robert A. Darmer

Manuscripts

Saturday is an interesting day because it has a different meaning to almost everyone. To a few, Saturday is a day of rest and relaxation; to the majority of the public today, it is just another day of work; a young boy's definition of the last day of the week might be that it is n day to finish any chores which have accumulated through the week; still another definition familiar among women, especially, is that the day under discussion is a day to accomplish any tasks in the business district of the city. This last phase may be combined …

Clem Johnson's General Store, Virginia Coxen

Manuscripts

"I reckon that that there buildin' across the way jes' looks like a pile of old boards to you folks," the old man at the filling station said as he wiped the car windows. I looked across the road and saw what seemed to be a dingy, run-down loafing place for all the idlers and farmers of the community. "Well, it ain't what you're a-thinkin', ma'am. That store is Clem's whole life. See, you can tell it's Clem's store 'cause it says so right up over the door in big red letters, Clem Johnson's General Store. 'Course, now the sign's …

America Is Dancing, Carol Jarrett

Manuscripts

1. An Indian Ceremonial Dance, Dells City, Wisconsin. Rushing down to the docks and trembling with excitement, we are afraid that we might be late. Dells City is certainly a busy little town during the first two weeks in July when Indians from all over the country unite to hold their time-honored annual ceremony. It takes time and strength to elbow through the idle crowd that throngs the docks just before the launches shove off toward the Upper Dells, and we reach our seats by the big open windows none too soon.

Tangled Patterns, Janet Jarrett

Manuscripts

The woman pressed her body against the wall and leaned her forehead against its hardness. She tightened her body against the wall and beat upon it with her fists. The dull thud came through to her with an insistent beat, and the urgency she felt lost itself in the pounding of her own fists. She leaned against the wall and let herself become the pounding and nothing more. She wished the pounding could be inside the minds of all the people she knew in the next room. She wanted to beat against their heads until there was nothing left for …

The Window Glass, Joan Fuller

Manuscripts

The prep school dormitory was a long, white-painted room in which rows of brown wooden bedsteads were alternated with large brown dressers and separated from each other by white curtains on poles. The Sister told Janet these were called alcoves, gave her the corner one, and left her to unpack. It was ugly and very large and still, but when Janet had pulled her curtains she didn't feel alone. They worked just like the shower curtains in hotels. Then she opened both her windows. At least she had two. The other alcoves had only one window.

The Faces, Mary Alice Kessler

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Arrogant Dreamer, Betty Murnan

Manuscripts

In the highest mountains of the Alps there lies a tiny village, isolated and remote from the rest of the continent. Many legends weave themselves about the snow covered peaks and crags, a few stretching into the villages and tangling themselves in the minds of the people. But the village of which I speak is too self-contained even for legends. There, the people, protected by their environment, are secured against false imaginings and petty schemes. They go about their daily work oblivious to both the perils and the beauty which may lie on the other side of their mountains. Their …

Front Matter

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.

Volume 11, Issue 3: Full Issue

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No abstract provided.

A Canine Soliliquy, Ellen King

Manuscripts

Cuddled in the soft warmth of my own bed with my best friend scratching my ear, I died. It was a peaceful death, and I am very glad that my life slipped away in the still flow of air. These are my comments upon a dog's life. (Of course, now that I'm in Dog Heaven, it will be upon life here instead of my earthly life.)

Advice To A Freshman, Richard G. Finley

Manuscripts

So you're a freshman! So you're coming to college for the first time! Well, heed this dying sigh of a scarred veteran of the battle of Jelly Hall.

First, my freshman, live each day as though it were the last before a final exam. Procrastination is a device of the devil, and thy soul goes down the River Styx with it .

Joe, Russell Miller

Manuscripts

No one knows his last name, but that does not matter. He is one of those cosmopolitans, the type found all over the world, that are of no particular nationality. His most striking feature is his sparkling brown eyes, set in a face that has been tanned and hardened through years of sea-faring. Although he must be at least sixty-five, his jet black hair and vigorous energy give him the appearance of a man of fifty. He is invariably clad in blue denim pants, a black jacket, and an old tweed cap. He is a carpenter, plumber, painter, electrician, a …

Interview With Victor Kolar, Peggy Eileen Rose

Manuscripts

"Praise is just as important as rebuke," was the sentiment expressed by Victor Kolar, former conductor of the Detroit Symphony Orchestra, in a recent interview. Mr. Kolar, although still a resident of Detroit, spends one day a week in Indianapolis teaching violin and conducting the Arthur Jordan Symphony Orchestra.

Constructive Thinking, Mary Grace French

Manuscripts

The student of today is not allowed to think for himself. Instead he is told what to think and criticised if he does not do so. As a result he goes through grade school, high school, and even college without using his mind to its fullest capacity. Classes are usually too large for much individual attention, and time is often considered too important a factor. To take advantage of every minute, the teacher does not let each person express his views but deals out facts that the student must accept.

What I Like To Read, Marjorie Yelvington

Manuscripts

The analysis of character, whether it be reality or fiction, has always appealed to me. As far as my individual character is concerned, I am not quick to make friends for the simple reason that I am slow in forming opinions of a personality. Character study in literature is a valuable aid in teaching one the art (not the science) of psychology.

Life Is What You Make It, Barbara Jean Fark

Manuscripts

Having neither enough years on my beginning to see the advent of the horseless carriage or enough years on the other end (as yet) to witness the helicopter age, I am not in a desirable position to discuss, with nostalgia or anything else, treasured objects that are gone forever or are passing from American life. The only thing at the present date I'll never see again is the age of ten, or for that matter any part of my childhood-happy, happy days when nobody minded if I had a smudge on my face because he had two, when all I …

Madam Marquet, Ida Marie Luck

Manuscripts

Madame Marquet chatted gaily to the little squirrel that sat watching her from the porch steps while she waited for her neighbor to come to the door.

"Caesar, you're a leel rascal, that's w ha t," she teased softly, "but if you come over after while, Mama will geeve you something to eat."

The squirrel cocked his head to one side as though he were puzzled by her French flavored language; then he scampered quickly away as the front door opened. Madame Marquet giggled at his antics, wrinkling her nose in the manner of a high school girl.

Peter Pan's Paradise, Carol Fall

Manuscripts

The European Rooms in Miniature, by Mrs. James Ward Thorne, exhibited at John Herron Art Institute contain the depth of reality and the realm of fantasy. The realization that the objects in these rooms are perfect miniature replicas of exemplary period furnishings catches one's imagination.

States Of Learning, Kay Smith

Manuscripts

I SCHOOL IN VIRGINIA

School is a very important factor in a person's life. There are innumerable public schools all over America; each there for the same purpose. It is interesting to note that each state has an almost entirely different curriculum. The schools in Virginia stress culture. It is put far above the three "R's". The particular school I have in mind is the Jeb Stuart Grade School in Richmond. This two story building surrounded by spacious grounds in a clean residential section makes a pleasant place to start to school. Life in a Virginia grade school is leisurely. …

To Roz, Betty Hawkins

Manuscripts

You would be startled if I stood before you and stated curtly, "Thanks." You might think it a game and carol flippantly, "Oh, that's all right. Just anytime-," or "Whoops! The girl's mad!"

Dreaming, Ingeborg Weck

Manuscripts

The constant rocking, from starboard to port, and from stem to stern; those furious, lashing waves towering high above the proud towers; the rolling deck, a perfect test for an acrobat; the dank smell of foul air and sick humans; the sea and sky covered with. a heavy grey veiling: a perfect picture of an Atlantic storm at its furious height.

At Home, Gladys Little

Manuscripts

I ALONE

Outside, the rain pounded steadily on the roof of the' house; the flashes of lightning darted boldly across the sky; at intervals, the thunder roared as a lion caught in the hunter's trap. Inside, the flickering light of the fireplace cast huge and distorted shadows upon the walls ; the radio poured forth words made meaningless by the ever-returning thunder; the clock on the mantle above the fireplace ticked nervously.

The Americans, Joe Sullivan

Manuscripts

THE WESTERNER

The cowboy is as traditional and as colorfully American as is Thanksgiving. Today, however, he is too often falsely represented by those overworked mediums _ the cinema and radio. In spite of this, the modern cattle man, the name he prefers to cowboy, remains as distinctive and picturesque as ever, for the vast West has changed but a little since the days of Kit Carson.

Song Without Music, Lucy Kaufman

Manuscripts

No abstract provided.