FRITILLARY February r 2 th, 19 2 7
Price SIXPENCE
Editor: R. 0. HAYNES (St. Hugh's).
Treasurer: C. C. MCDONALD (St. Hugh's).
Committee : DIANA SCOONES (Lady Margaret Hall). S. B. NORTON (Somerville). DOREEN PRICE (St. Hilda's College). P. M. HALFORD (Oxford Home Students). MARGARET LANE (St. Hugh's College).
frittitarr Magazine of the Oxford Women's Colleges
FEBRUARY, 1 927 CONTENTS Page
Editorial .. Picture of an Old City : Morning .. The Playhouse .. Night.. .. .. The Pseudo Highbrows' Week .. The Super-Cinema To a Portrait of Two Dancers .. Oxford Home Students' Dramatic Society ..
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St. Hugh's College Players . Snowdrops .. Book Reviews .. Infinity Correspondence .. A Singer News in Brief from the Women's Colleges .. . Games Notices
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T is always difficult and usually dangerous to generalise on sexcharacteristics : but there is the authority of Mr. Havelock Ellis behind the statement that the average woman is usually believed to be more timid, more conscientious and more afraid of ' what people will say ' than the average man. The question arising out of this is : are the women who come up to Oxford less discreet than the rest of their sex ? From a fairly large acquaintance one would incline to think that the majority had characteristics much resembling those of most females : but, on the other hand, the rules made for their restraint would seem to suggest that Oxford produces an inevitable wild woolliness which would lead either to scandal or to idleness if, along with liberty, it were not closely clipped. Wool sprouts, it would seem, particularly during the dark hours when theatres are ending : from eleven to twelve would be a dangerous time for an Oxford female to spend otherwise than in her college ; even though her substitute for sleep, or for gossiping over biscuits, were to be watching the end of a strictly highbrow play or staying till the close of a meeting to reform the world. Wool also sprouts if she spend a night away from Oxford for any reason but a family one. Although, as I have said, the average woman is generally believed to be more conscientious than the average man, in Oxford the rule
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is reversed. While he finds it perfectly easy to get away for a night for the most trivial reason, she may not go, even though it be to represent the feminine side of the University, whether athletically or intellectually. These rules must obviously rest either on one of the two following theories, or on a combination of both : that in their absence her work would suffer, or that scandals would arise. Both theories, in turn, are based on an idea that Oxford women differ radically from the rest of their sex. Like Rosa Dartle, we only ask for information,' and we are perfectly prepared to accept evidence that we do so differ from the normal run of women : we should welcome correspondence on the subject of our frailty and of our idleness : we are open to conviction. But, until conviction takes place, we are bound to feel it a little bitter that Oxford women must go unrepresented in all inter-University events that take place during term, and that they should be isolated from the activities of student bodies representing the world rather than one however well beloved corner of it.
Picture of an CIO Car : Morning Quietly, quietly, quietly, Over the calm sea, Rippling green sea, The soft dawn creeps with fairy steps, Creeps and peeps into the purple gauze, Dreamy purple gauze hanging over the city. The city of rich colours, The city of the mighty Shogun, The city of the goddess of Mercy. Now through the calmness come the bells, Bells from the temple of the goddess Rippling, Shaking the purple gauze, Voices of the guardian of the city, Go—o—o--on. Over the sea rises the sun, Crimson, Burning. The dream gauze steals away, Away beneath the willow trees. The castle of the Shogun gleams, White as a seagull's wing Against the blue sky. Pagoda's red pillars burning, Beneath the jade green roofs.
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FRITILLARY Streets are now full of noises, Noises of morning— Of the old city. Rumbling carts, Squeaking, squeaking, sliding doors, Appealing voices of bean sellers, Natto ! Natto ! Natto ! ' Young men singing popular love songs On their way to the public bath. Again the bells from the temple, Go—o—o—o—on. Hallow and solemn. Calling the people to morning prayer. Shaking the air, Shaking the Ginko tree in the temple yard, The oldest tree of the city. White doves fly across the peaked roof Like plum petals in March wind, Flying, flying, flying Over the broad steps. Swinging bronze lanterns, Curved railings, Gray pavements, Flying and flying. Men in black, Men in blue, Women in red with black butterfly hair. Noises of clogs across the pavements, To the dusky red temple door. Kara, Kara, Koro, Koro, Keeping time with the rosaries, With the solemn, hollow bells. Go—on—on--on. Go o o o—on. The sun is high up in the sky Over the blue sea, Blue, blue sea, Over the city, The city of bells. MINEO NAKAMVTIA,
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the 1Pla0ouse It is pleasing of Mr. Fagan to have opened the season at the Playhouse with Tchehov—we feel at home at once among the psychological dilemmas of the Russians after the careful education we have received during the last few years, and we like to talk glibly about the first performance of the term ; later on, perhaps, we shall fall back upon timid conjecture until we know the opinion of the Oxford Press. ' Uncle Vanya' is an extremely interesting play, only spoilt as usual by Tchehov's inability to know when to stop. One could have wished the last scene had ended with the squeaking pens of Uncle Vanya and his niece instead of descending into bathos, just as in ' The Cherry Orchard ' one regretted the final desertion of the old manservant which converted tragedy into melodrama. But the characterization is extraordinarily skilful, and the ever-ready sense of the ridiculous is not aroused so much even in an Oxford audience as it would have been by ' The Three Sisters,' for instance.
The acting was, on the whole, quite competent, with the exception of that Mr. Alan Napier, who finds it impossible not to over-act, and of Miss Maud Risdon, who did not seem quite sure what to do with her part. Her acting in the last scene made much too large a call upon the sympathy of the audience—we ought not to have been so anxious about the future of the charming icicle—and throughout our sympathies were too much divided between Sonya and Yelena. But one can forgive Miss Risdon anything for her beautiful arms and profile against the curtain : after all the whole char-
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acter of Yelena is best summed up in her ' draped ' movements and attitude in which Miss Risdon succeeded so well. The acting of Miss Peggy Webster as Sonya was above criticism. It was a perfect character-study. A good deal has been said about the obtrusiveness of the Oxford sense of humour, but laughter is not nearly so out of place at the Playhouse on a Tchehov night as are the hoisterous roars which greet such a song as ' Can this be Life ? ' at the Lyric, Hammersmith, the home of the intelligentsia. One likes an audience to restrain unseemly mirth, but at the same time, if it is amused, it is really better that it should laugh. Tchehov himself could never understand why his plays were taken so seriously, so we must not be too hard on the blasphemous undergraduate or the antics of Mr. Byam Shaw. ' The Philanderer' is a messy, if amusing play— Shaw at his least attractive. The chief feature of the production was the crying of Miss Maud Risdon, whose hurricane of passion was a perfect miracle. Day after day, exquisitely robed, she floated about the stage shedding indefatigable tears. Mr. Alan Napier again over-acted grossly—his head is too much in the clouds, we fear. He must read The Manchester Guardian, which will make him understand that even Mussolini cannot out-herod Herod and be applauded. Otherwise the acting was again good—Mr. Allan Webb is a versatile actor, whose rendering of Colonel Craven was quite untinged by the Astrov of the week before. One cannot say the same of Miss Webster, who evidently finds the quick transition from one play to another difficult. Perhaps, if her part had been a more important one, her performance would have been less reminiscent of Sonya. One is, of course, glad of comic relief interposed between Tchehov and the tears behind the smile which we are to experience in ' Quality Street.' At the same time, the eternal feminine, the languishing appassionata, is a somewhat obsolete type naturally distasteful to the good feminist, and the whole theme is one that has ceased to thrill. The lady with a hopeless passion no longer sighs for the excellent reason that she has too much to do. The bon joueur, on the other hand, no longer finds philandering a whole-time job, so has no need to bury his sorrows in the bosom of an unattractive widow. However, Shaw is always amusing, even when he's out of date. M.S. -J .
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Might It's cold at night When the blinds aren't drawn, And the palm leaf shivers against the pane ; And the grey light peers through the whistling glass And the glass stares back at the night again. It's strange at night When the wind is low, And only a gust blows in now and then, When dreams of the past surge in with the dark To keep sad tryst with the souls of men.
he IPseubo 'highbrows' Uliceh On Sunday, Impropriety Is cancelled out by Piety, And we may go and see the Plays That would be censored other days.
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On Monday afternoon we go To writhe around a Picture Show And, with well-modulated Groans Discuss the state of colour Tones.
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FRITILLARY On Tuesday, to a Studio We pass, where, rocking to and fro, Young Wom en squat upon their hams And fill the Air with Epigrams. =_--
On Wednesday if we feel annoyed We read psychology and Freud And find the Parlour Maid's Expression
Significant of Sex Repression. On Thursday plastic values take Our minds as subjects which to make
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FRITILLARY Foundations for our Conversation— A Private View incurs Damnation. On Friday there's a Novel out And therefore we can rave about The Beauty of Obscenity To titillate our Vanity. On Saturday we go to see A Russian Drama, full of Tea (In samovars) and Souls, and Sighs And those who take no Exercise. And so the long week's Work is done And we may hope to have some Fun, For when our Ears' Capacity Is sated with Salacity, To give our Eyes Variety Remains the Film Society.
R. O. H.
be Super--Cinema Instruction featured largely in the earlier programmes of the term. It is rather depressing that in this city one cannot escape education even at the cinema ; one resents it, however good the educational films may be. The Adventures of Maya the Bee ' was a triumph of patient and brilliant photography, and a remarkable amount of dramatic interest had been woven into it, so that one followed the issue of the battle against the hornets with breathless excitement. Still, it was hardly entertaining in the way one likes to be entertained at the cinema, and the rest of the programme did little to alleviate the gloom. The Eskimo film of the following week was merely dull : under the misleading title of Primitive Love,' it displayed in admirable photography large stretches of the Frozen North on which the natives slew every species of animal with unerring skill. The dogs and the children were rather delightful, and in its own class the film was good ; but misled by the title, one was always expecting something to happen which never materialised ; it was a pity even to pretend there was a plot. The sub-titles were execrable, ranging from the heavily instructive to the cloyingly sentimental : Has dog no friend ? ' and ' In what direction lies the humble home ? ' are fair examples of the latter. The Waltz Dream ' showed the genius of German direction even more tellingly than the greater films like Vaudeville,' for with the feeblest and most stereotyped of plots, the result was extremely entertaining, while in the hands of American or English producers, it would have been ordinary. Excellent acting and perfection of detail make it memorable despite its essential flimsiness. The following week was uniformly mediocre, Bluebeard's Seven Wives ' being involved and only mildly funny, and Infatuation ' having no attractions other than the loveliness of Corinne Griffith and the never-failing suave nastiness of Warner Oland. Brown of Harvard,' which was shown in the second programme, though spoiled by patches of sentimentality and a mincing heroine, was very amusing. We have not heard the verdict upon it of any Harvard men, but setting the story aside, the football game against Yale was alone thrilling enough to be worth a visit, and there was a cheerful atmosphere about the whole production if one chose to forget the unnecessary sobstuff. The Marriage Clause ' was a doleful film of persistent misunderstandings, redeemed by the good setting of its stage background.
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We continue to be subjected to the Phonofilms, which increase in accuracy if not in artistic purpose. On the whole, we are not satisfied with the first few programmes of the term, but the Super has promised ' Beau Geste ' in a few weeks, and we hope for a general improvement in the standard. E. N. S.
to a portrait of two Mancers This petrefaction of your urgent grace Has stolen, hour by hour, the life from me. Is there no other sympathetic room, Where your insistent dance may be ? Like the unwonted balance of a soul Upon the subtle edge of life and death : And like the troubled passage of a kiss, Held in a desperate unavailing breath : Like a good woman thinking upon sin, Stayed in a prayer before her good has fled— But all similitude must falter here : Alone, your prisoned poise recalls the dead. Upon your limbs the pallid light is stunned : A foreign shadow slips from arm and thigh, Dream of a dream your faces lit with death, Cool rhythm of your bodies poised to fly. God ! to what dance is this the preluding ? What other world shall these wan glances see ? In what strange steps shall pass these wonderful feet, Down the long floorway of eternity ?
R. M.
J. CAMPBELL.
Oxforb 'borne Stubents' Mramatic Zocietv The first of the three plays presented by the Dramatic Society of Oxford Home Students on December 1st and and was an example of Maurice Baring's usual travesty of history. A mere hors d'ceuvre ; it required a greater delicacy of flavour than that with which it was invested. ' Unsavoury Proceedings' followed. This melodrama by U.M.G. and M.B. cannot be called a success. As a charade it was amusing, but it so lacked cohesion that it could not be called a play. Miss U. M. Gilbert as the Contessa played her part with restraint, and if her method of treatment had been followed by the other characters, the melodrama would not have descended to bathos. As it was, Miss H. Romala burlesqued the part of the jealous lover, giving quite an amusing performance, but to do her full justice her part should have been a monologue. ' The Laughter of the Gods,' by Lord Dunsany, with its full-measured phrases, was by far the most pleasing performance of the evening. The queen, Miss Morna Stuart, had an exceedingly musical voice, and her technique in elocution was high. The prophet was undoubtedly distinctive, but
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at times we wished that he would have taken to heart the advice so often reiterated, ' don't be so unhappy,' or at least, that he had varied his wail of misery in different keys. Towards the end he impressed not only the audience but the whole cast, who caught the inflection of his lamentations. Miss Cicely Keates was decided in manner, having carried much of Iphigenia's independence of mind into her subsequent part ; perhaps that was why she alone seemed capable of coping with the gods. The part of Ictharion was played rather woodenly by Miss M. E. A. Hancock (except when he was dealing with his wife) . Miss A. M. C. Shaw made the most of the latent humour in the character of the king, and fully expressed a lusty enjoyment of the purple orchids and the general discomfort of the situation. The sentries and camel guard had been well drilled, but the picturesque conventionality so necessary for the atmosphere of the play would have contrasted with the action of the more tragic characters if it had been sustained to the end, and would have afforded some relief from the oppressive ' Voice of the gods.' Unfortunately it only survived the first act. The lighting effects, which had been carefully prepared, deserved better management on the actual occasion of the performance.
C. McD.
%t. lbugh's College Players There is a good deal to be said for the workman who blames his tools ; he no doubt would have done quite well if they had been better, just as, at the same time, a better workman would have managed with them, bad as they were. The St. Hugh's Players were handicapped by their choice of plays : this ' rough-and-tumble ' dramatic stuff, however hallowed by archaeological literary interest, is seldom an entertainment for the modern audience. The revival of old plays must be entrusted to the most expert of artists and the amateur keep to things so excellent in themselves that acting cannot hurt them ; mystery-plays are not amateur-proof. Thersytes ' promised to be the most amusing, but it became tiresome in depending overmuch on the solitary ranting of Thersytes himself (Thersytes = Miss M. Russell). We were relieved when his Mother (Miss I. Evans) appeared and acted a simple part very gracefully. The Knight (Miles= Miss C. Goodenough) had another of the parts in which these plays abound—very amusing horse-play for the actor but dull for the audience. The Snail (Miss H. Hensman) moved with appropriate uncelerity and was very well designed, but the honours of the evening must certainly go to the Smith (Mulciber = Miss D. Langfield) , who spoke her lines well and—more important and more difficult—kept our attention in the fine art of doing nothing : if our attention strayed from the Bragadacio in the centre it was caught and held every time by the Smith at the anvil behind him. The production of Noah's Deluge from The Chester Pageant of the Water Leaders and Drawers of the Dee was excellent. The flight of the dove and the passage of the animals into the ark and the minor action of the three Gossips were exploited to the full. Miss M. Gossip's performance as one of these boon-companions of Mrs. Noah was the best thing in the play ; Miss C. Goodenough as Noah was also very good, and managed to keep her voice uniformly deep ; it was a pity that God (Miss I. Lynn) was not as successful in this respect, as it meant that the play opened less impressively than it should ; Mrs. Noah's (Miss G. Barker) side-play was good, but she did not do much else to relieve a rather forced part.
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FRITILLARY ' S. George and the Dragon ' must have been great fun for the actors ; it was also entertaining to the audience and was, on the whole, the most successful of the three. We felt hazy about the plot and did not quite grasp the connections between S. George and Father Christmas and Egyptian necromancy, but faith in Cornish genius bore us along and we were glad of any excuse for the fine ocular display of Miss R. Haynes as King of Egypt. The Dragon, too (Dragon.-- Miss W. Murrell and Miss M. Phelips) , was a delight thoroughly relevant to any S. George geste! The Producer (Miss C. Goodenough) is to be heartily congratulated ; any failure to ' get across ' that there may have been was certainly not due to defects of staging and scenery. Clothes were, perhaps, rather a weak point ; the Noah family obviously indulged in the promiscuous borrowing of jumpers, and Noah pere went so far (a good way, in point of time) as to be wearing an Old Etonian scarf. But such triumphs of the producer's art as the Snail and the Dragon and the ' properties ' of Noah's Deluge made any anachronisms readily forgiven. R. G. G.
Znowbrops ST. JOHN'S GARDENS, 1926. Out of the quiet garden earth A thousand sea pearls had their birth. Above their green sword blades they sway, Their tiny satin bodies gay With pulsing life that must be done, Before they ever feel the sun. A dazzling, lonely host, they dance Through life before they've had a chance To taste the glory of the spring, Or know the wonder June can bring. But though they die in infancy And yield so soon to transiency, Unknowing, from earth black and still When skies are cold and rain falls chill, They sweep into the heart of me— Small ghosts that dance eternally.
V.P.
pooh 1Reviews By Luigi Pirandello : translated by C. K. Scott-Moncrieff. (Chatto and Windus ; 7/6.) I do not know whether my ignorance is common to most people or a deplorable peculiarity, but until I read this book I thought of Pirandello only as a playwright : an ignorance whose extensiveness may be gauged by the admirable bibliography at the back, and whose misfortune by reading the book. It is much more easily assimilated than the plays, which, strange and wonderful as they are, are yet as tantalising as the remarks of a dreamy child who, absorbed in his game on the floor, refuses to explain it except by hints and assumptions. This is perhaps because, in action, it is less easy successfully to strip people of the film of certainty with which they contrive to cover themselves than in the still unhurriedness of narrative. SHOOT
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Shoot i is, quite calmly and literally, one. of the greatest books that have ever been written : and the greatest book on which Mr. ScottMoncrieff has ever exercised his wonderful powers of translation. Where Proust was a strong microscope, Pirandello is a mirror, but a mirror slanting at an entirely new angle, shining with the reflections of those commonplace things one has always known seen with the difference that is genius : a vision as true, and as surprising, to change the metaphor, as the first aeroplane photographs must have seemed. The book is made of the note-books of Serafino Gubbio, cinematograph operator,' and running through it continuously are the themes of an increasing loss of reality, an increasing desire of it, and a resentment of that desire. ' The earth was made not so much for mankind as for the animals. Because animals have in themselves by nature only so much as suffices them to live . . . whereas men have in them a superfluity which constantly and vainly torments them . . . with certain problems destined on earth to remain insoluble.' These three ideas are constantly recurrent, both in the mind of Gubbio and in the story of the lives of a group of film actors and others, radiating from that of ' The Nestoroff,' an actress with the faculty of causing passion. ' Enemies to her, all the. men become to whom she attaches herself in order that they may help her to arrest the secret thing in her that escapes her. . . . No one has ever taken any notice of this thing, which to her is more pressing than anything else : everyone rather remains dazzled by her exquisite form, and does not wish to possess or to know anything else about her. And then she punishes them with a cold rage. . . Gubbio, also desiring certainty of himself, feels that, in being the photographer, he is less real than any : his refrain is ' What am I to them? An operator, an impassive hand that turns the machine,' incurring the quiet distaste of the actors for the man who strips them of their reality and offers it as food to the machine, who reduces their bodies to phantoms.' Throughout the book this recurrent horror of machine-made shadows grows stronger and stronger as the plot becomes more and more deeply involved with the real lives of the Nestoroff and her brutal lover, Carlo Ferro : of Aldo Nuti, hatingly devoted to her : and of the Cavalera family ; father, with a mad wife jealous of him, from whom he flees at times when he can no longer recollect that he is a doctor and his torment her disease ; and daughter, who, pretending for the comfort of Nuti during his illness in their house that she is the girl he once loved, falls really in love with him when, recovering, he cares neither for her nor for her model, but only for the Ne.storoff. The culmination is a fulness of the terror of mixing life and unreality. It was horrible even that the tigress should be kept in a cage that she might die in warm truth in a sham hunting scene for the amusement of shadowy cinema-goers : but ultimately the machine has in its maw the life of a man.' This brief sketch may seem that of a record of melodramatic horror : but it is not so. The book is a history of people who cannot have that rare thing, the courage of their convictions, because they have never had any convictions : and who cannot, according to the usual procedure, substitute that of their conventions because they have lost them : some in an aimlessness of pleasure, others in their search for a reality never to be found. This is a book of genius, seeing life new. RENEE HAYNES.
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By Hugh Martin, S.C.M. (3/- cloth ; 2/- paper.) Those who were irritated by The Times controversy of a few months ago will find Mr. Martin's book admirable. It avoids all the annoyances usually found in a discussion of that kind ; there are no ' social problems,' no ' Christian principles,' nor even ' goodwill-as-a-solution.' The discussion of Christ's own teaching is strangely relevant and definite : there is no attempt to evade or soften, nor, on the other hand, to startle or bewilder. A clear and continuous argument leads up to practical yet dangerous recommendations. There is a bishop in one of Mr. Wells' novels who, after heroic Wellsian meditation, gives up his ecclesiastical dignity and salary for some vague and heroic Wellsian faith. He would not have liked Mr. Martin's book. It doesn't Do, . . .' one can hear him say, ' There must be More, . . for Mr. Martin cheerfully recommends the practical platitudes of keeping accounts, willing ratepaying and contributing to the salaries of missionaries and ministers. But he also recommends something much more vital ; stewardship means ' not only the surrender of a fixed proportion of income to distinctly religious ends, but responsibility to God for every penny spent.' This brings us to William Morris' dilemma—either a voluntary reduction of the standard of life by anyone whose income is above the average, or devotion of that income to furthering the reform of society by legislation or agitation. Since the existing order of society makes the second alternative practically impossible, we are left with the first. Mr. Martin cuts off all ways of escape ; he seems to think that this suggestion is a most obvious and ordinary affair, certainly too obvious for argument. The platitude that money is a trust is unexpectedly translated. Mr. Martin tells us that he does not wish to dogmatise, but that he does covet the privilege of making people think. It seems unlikely that this privilege will be his, for his book can have little interest for anyone whose intellectual activities need stimulating, but for those who are sincerely interested in religion or economics it should prove useful.
CHRIST AND MONEY.
infinity What men or gods can part us at the last, Who serve the standard of one company, Keeping far frontiers till the war is past To meet beneath the arch of victory ? This rock of being, whose sundered flanks we climb With cords of joy and chisels of our pain, Has but one peak above the clouds of time, Whence life went forth—where life returns again. Strong earth and magic moon and royal sun Shall mix their essence in that mountain air, And fear forgot, pain made with triumph one, Our wandering souls will be handfasted there, Sharing, in godhead and eternity, The bridals of the heaven and the sea.
E.M.C.
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Corresponbence To THE EDITOR OF The Fritillary. DEAR MADAM,
You invited correspondence on the new Inter-Collegiate Play-reading Society. May I introduce it to you, though it is at present nameless and very young. Perhaps your readers could help to find a name for it ; it is open to any suggestions, but quite decided that it must not be called anything ' Inter-Collegiate,' as such societies seem always to be doomed. At present it only exists through the College Dramatic Societies, having a Committee of the Presidents of these societies, as it is anxious to supplement but not to supersede college dramatic activities. The new Society is to be financed at first by a small terminal grant from the College Societies. It will meet for readings three or four times a term, some of which will be private ; visitors will be invited to others, to read the men's parts. Noel Coward's Hay Fever ' has been chosen to be read early next term. The Society, which is still very informal, is anxious not to express its aims and ambitions too loudly. It must be obvious to your readers that possibilities of dramatic activity for women in this University are still very inadequate ; some society which is wider and yet more centralised than the College Societies, apart from the value it will have for providing better play-readings, may also be the stepping-stone to other things. The new society wishes still to be secretive, but not from humility. Yours, etc., AUDREY
St. Hilda's College, Oxford.
R finger When he sang, the people thought Birds in the high roof awoke. Wings too subtle to be caught Moved and fluttered when he spoke. When he sang All the carven vaulting rang. Birds that no-one else could wake Made a wonder for his sake. From the notched, fantastic gloom Their clear rapture filled the room, And children, staring at the height, Caught a moving swift and light Of stretched beak or feathers bright. When he stopped and bent his head, Suddenly the music fled.
F. FALK.
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FRITILLARY
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flews in 16rief from the Women's Colleges Somerville is delighted at the coming of Miss Fry, and has great pleasure in welcoming her. The St. Hugh's English Club had the pleasure of a lecture from Miss Mineo Nakamura on ' Japanese Drama in the time of Shakespeare' on February 8th. The Beaufort Debating Society of Lady Margaret Hall is organising special short debates every fortnight to practise public speakers. The Home Students' Debating Society has had one debate, ' That this House considers that the Government should legislate against Trade Unions.' The motion was lost by one vote. There will be two more debates this term. The St. Hugh's Debating Society is debating with New College on February i4th. St. Hilda's J.C.R. has had the pleasure of two evening lectures. One (with lantern slides) on ' St. Francis of Assisi ' was given by Miss Sandys ; the other, on ' Japan,' by Bishop Lee. The Home Students' Musical Society has been re-organised and will study Elizabethan Madrigals this term. The History Society of St. Hugh's had the pleasure of a lecture by Mr. Cossar on ' Geographical factors and their influence on the situation in China.' The Lady Margaret Hall Dramatic Society is rehearsing "The Way of the World.' The Home Students' Elizabethan Play Reading Society has read Love's Labour Lost,' and will hold three further readings this term of : ' The Spanish Tragedy ' (Kyd), ' King Edward II ' (Marlowe), and ' The Shoemaker's Holiday ' (Dekker). At St. Hilda's, except for drastic revision of the constitution of the Boats Club, whereby one is freer both to punt or to drown, internal politics are not absorbing. A false alarm of intruders in the garden and the wreckage of their best boathouse under a fallen tree caused a little mild amusement. Lady Margaret Hall has had a good deal of influenza, though fortunately not of a serious kind. Coal is still short. Most of the games clubs have been hindered by the bad weather. However, St. Hilda's First XI, not at its full strength owing to many cases of 'flu, played Milham Ford School and lost 6—i. The Home Students' Second XI played one match against the Etceteras, which was lost 5-4• Matches too late for report last term were the Home Students' Second XI against St. Michael's School, won on December 1st, and a match of their 'A' team with the North Worcestershire Ladies, on December 8th, which was lost, 9-7. They have as yet no fixtures this term beyond Cuppers.
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FRITILLARY
Games 1Rotices O. U. W. L. C. Dec. 18. O.U.W.L.C. v. Roedean. Drawn, 6-6. Jan. 29. O.U.W.L.C. v. Winchester. Won, 16-1. In the first match, which was a very close and even game, the defence played very well indeed, especially P. Vincent at 3rd man. NI. Wilkinson played well at wing defence, but her stick-work is still very clumsy and uncertain. The attacks were slow off the mark, and there was little quick, short combining ainongst them. M. Fisher played a very unselfish and useful game at centre, and connected well between attacks and defence. In the second match the attacks got going far better, and in the first half got some really good combining. H. Haworth played very well at second home, and would be a really good player if her shot were harder. The marking of the defence was not always quite close enough, and they sometimes failed to see who was the dangerous attack near goal. K. Smith played very soundly at wing defence, and R. Shaw did some very nice work in goal. The stickwork of all the attacks, except rst home and 2nd home, is still rather clumsy, and if we could only get this neater the pace of our game would quicken up enormously. The defence, on the whole, is very sound, but sometimes they fail to clear quite quickly enough—a mistake which is fatal near goal against a good attack. N. DEBES. March 15th.-0.U.W.L.C. v. Cambridge. The Running Ground, Iffley Road. 0. U. W. H. C. Captain—J. DARLING. Secretary-4. HARDY. Treasurer—D. PULLIN. There has as yet this term been so little opportunity for hockey that it is difficult to write a report. Both the practices of the term and one match have been scratched because of weather, so that on January 29th we met Bedford P.T.C. without having had any practice at all. The result was a defeat, 6—o. We were certainly unfortunate not to score more than once, but the forwards missed a great many golden opportunities in the circle. We were unfortunate in playing without J. Hardy, whose assistance, especially in the circle, we badly missed. The defence had a great deal to do, and therefore suffered from extreme exhaustion after the first quarter of an hour. The goal played well under great difficulties. There is, however, good material in the team and plenty of dash and determination, which, when employed more often in the right direction, is sure to lead to good results. If only the weather allows us opportunity for steady practice and good matches we should have no cause for despondency. The Cambridge match is at Cambridge on March 7th. We are fortunate in having Mrs. Cavalier coming to coach us again this term ; her invaluable and patient coaching now seems quite an indispensable item. The team that played v. Bedford P.T.C. was as follows : g., G. Sheppard; 1.b., M. Prichard ; r.b., D. Pullin • 1h., J. Bain, c.h. J. Darling ; . Kilroy r.h., P. Scott ; 1.w., A. Norwood ; 1.i., K. Lloyd ; c., M. ; r.i., L. Stave ; r.w., J. Stopford. PRINTED AT THE HOLYWELL PRESS, OXFORD.
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