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Show Vol. II ZitontanPage 107Wt)tE believe in the simple life. We believe in it so firmly that we can almost put our finger upon a something where it would seem most vacant, and say, with brightening inspired eyes, "Ah, it is there, in the air!" What? The Art's Society, to be sure. Even the most ordinary student-a Freshman or a Sophomore, knows it to be there somewhere permeating the atmosphere of unobtrusion. But it takes someone with the title of President actually to thumb the ephemeral presence and bring it to earth. There was a President last year-"but that is another story" to be read in Punch. They say there is a President this year who had it under his thumb to the extent that he invited the students in a body to witness his capture. But only six came, and in his concern for the absence of the rest, his thumb slipped, and out, too, slipped the Arts Society once more to swell the air. Imagine the consternation! The six went home and the President was left by himself to hunt for this thing called Arts Society. That is, he may have hunted. It is more likely that he swore-if Presidents swear. For to be a President is an honor which not many people have. Indeed, there was an election held last year, "but that, too, is another story." Only I've heard it told that ten men might have held the office if it had not happened in each case that the person chosen was to leave college. Such a thing would never happen twice in a lifetime. It has not. So far as we can learn there is the possibility of there never being another President. It is getting so that now, not even a President can thumb the Society. But even though we cannot possess it in actuality, we are all glad it is there, anywhere-about us, above us-somewhere-in the air! |