St Hugh's College, Oxford - The Cygnet, Dec 1934

THE CYGNET

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COMMITTEE. Editor: M. P. REEKIE.

Treasurer: A. N. STEVENSON.

Third Year Representative—J. RAWLINSON. Second Year Representative—C. YOUNG.

THE CYGNET DECEMBER, 1934

Editorial WE are grieved. As we solicited contributions for this worthy periodical, we heard ourselves referred to in the J.C.R. as that misbegotten bird.' Saddened and even downcast, we returned to our room and opened our copy of Keats' poems. There we found echoed this very wish, that ' Our ebon sofas should delicious be With down from Leda's Cygnet progeny.'

Eagerly we turned towards our ebon sofa, or rather our bed masquerading as a couch. Instead of being delicious with down, it was merely disfigured by a few, a very few, sheets of foolscap—the only contributions. But our Cygnet is a hardy fledgling. Ill-feathered as it is, we send it forth, trusting that its semi-naked condition will inspire decent-minded people to provide plumage against the deceptive weather of the Hilary Term. In anticipation, we have resumed our more cheerful cover design.

Let us now pass to the congenial duty of indicating the probably unnoticed merits of our fellow-students. We congratulate our much-respected President on her reforms in connection with Sunday Night Supper, and note with pleasure her insistence that the class distinctions between the merely hoggish and the partially refined should be preserved. We also thank her for any share she may have had in affixing the handsome Stamp Machine beside the front door ; we have always felt that Miss Collett's outlook needed enlivening.

We would congratulate Miss Diana Harris on her election as Secretary of the Labour Club. Her achievement in successfully lulling the members of that perspicacious body into a belief that she is as efficient as she looks is indeed commendable. Let us also acclaim Miss Fallas, who knows the names of all the freshers except one, and has discovered that Balliol is not in the High. We are grateful to the public-spirited First Years who have brought order to our notice-boards, although we could wish they would extend the same courtesy to the J.C.R.

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We are interested to hear that Miss Bishop is in the habit of borrowing a mouse with which to entertain her guests at coffee-parties. May we caution her to remember the fate of her namesake Hatto? We thank Miss Edith Jackson for bringing to our notice the apparently well-substantiated fact that a country called Ireland exists, and declare without hesitation that we do not believe the story of Miss Bosworth-Smith and her fiancĂŠ. ,

The fifteen shillings so kindly allotted to us by the J.C.R. has been distributed in the following manner. Five shillings has been awarded to the writers of ' Letters to Leda,' and half-a-crown each to Miss Parks, Miss Saintsbury and the writer of the untitled short story. Most reluctantly, the Editor and Treasurer have had to content themselves with dividing the last half-crown between them.

Beeches Beech leaves, how softly, softly falling Like gold leaf scattered on a sleeping air, Or dust along a silent sunbeam creeping Falling now, silent, settling everywhere.

When all words are said, all colour faded Into a dark and misty cold December, We may look back and see the autumn Falling among the beeches, and we will remember.

Sea-gulls Silver against the storm cloud The gulls are in a whirl, Like fallen aspens whitened Set by the wind a-swirl.

Swept as the spray from the torn edge Of the green Atlantic surge, Driven inland the sea-birds Obey the moving urge.

Silver sea-gulls wheeling Against the blackened sky Are prophecy unfailing The gale will soon sweep high.

THE CYGNET

Essay on Soap (With apologies to Charles Lamb.)

Reader, in thy pursuit of cleanliness hast thou never reflected upon the exasperating agility of that oleaginous form which is universally known as soap? I dare say thou hast often admired the smooth texture of his skin, the delicate colouring, the art by which he dives beneath the surface at a critical juncture. Perhaps thou hast long yearned for the day when some one of the world's scientists may incapacitate him. Until that great day, however, perchance a few directions which a prehistoric manuscript has brought to my notice will in some measure assist in alleviating thy distress : Pierce the offender through the centre of his anatomy, and through the hole introduce a piece of worsted with which he may be attached to the tap of the bath. Should this prove too exhausting, the manuscript suggests that the emptying of the bath may be a more reliable method of catching the rascal. To the writer, however, there seems but one solution — Banish him for ever from thy ablutions.

ELIZABETH SAINTSBURY.

Impressions of a Fresher A COLLEGE COFFEE-PARTY. Our dinner was over ; we sat round the fire, and sleepily, slowly, began to enquire if we ought to wear gowns when at work in the Bod? Of Butterflies, Bergson, and Is there a God? Then, abandoning sleep —most unusual for us— with earnest intent we began to discuss : Is Buchman a menace?

Is Space really Time?

Should murder be labelled a capital crime?

Why can't we have eggs for our breakfast as well?

We flirted with Heaven, We trifled with Hell.

We argued, asserted, grew fervent and hot ; affirming ' It must be,' declaring It's not.'

Till, ardour abating, we ceased to enquire, and sleepily, slowly, we drowsed round the fire.

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The Peacock's Feather A SHORT, SHORT STORY. A little black baby was playing in the dust. He wore a very inadequate shirt which barely covered his shiny black tummy, and which he frequently used as a handkerchief for the bad cold which, quite obviously, he had developed. In his chubby fist he held a brilliant peacock's feather, with which he stirred up the surrounding dust.

He had wanted that feather a long time ; that is, a long time in a baby's life. Two days to be exact. But that was only the time since it had been plucked. He had watched the proud old peacock saunter around the Massa's yard for many moons, but never had he had the courage, nor perhaps the speed, to pursue the old king and pluck a flaunting plume. And again, the terrible man, the Massa, would he not put the curse of the evil eye on any black baby so daring as to interfere with his preserves? So said his old black Mammy, and all the blacks on the estate. Then there was the momentous day when the old peacock pulled out a great tailfeather with his beak. Joy ! But the Massa had stuck it in his topee, regardless of the warnings of superstitious natives. And had not the Massa thrashed a labourer, One-Eye Joe, in the fields that very day ?

But only the baby had seen One-Eye Joe come up at dusk yesterday and pin the same feather on to the door of the Massa's study. It must have dropped from his topee when he was riding round the estate. One-Eye had not seen the baby, for he had hidden behind a clump of scarlet Hibiscus flowers. They had looked quite purple in the soft twilight, the baby remembered. All the native babies were afraid of One-Eye ; perhaps because he had little use for children, but more likely because their Mammies told them One-Eye had evil powers.

The little black baby had waited, holding tightly to a branch of one of the shrubs, while the man stole up to the door and stuck a dirty blackhandled knife through the feather. It penetrated the soft wood of the door, and the mite hoped that it didn't hurt the quill very much. The door opened on to the yard, so that nobody noticed.

As soon as One-Eye had gone, he had tip-toed up to where the feather shone brightly through the half-light. But he had almost wept with disappointment when he found he couldn't reach it. The Massa came home a little later, and as he always went to his study and changed, without disturbing anyone, he saw the feather straight-away. He called a servant who was passing, and asked what was the meaning of that tomfoolery.

The moment the girl saw what he was pointing at, she buried her head in her apron and wailed at the top of her voice that someone was going to kill the Massa. . . . A peacock's feather meant Revenge . . . and so on.

The Massa had shrugged his shoulders and had gone into the study, carrying the feather.

The next night, at sundown, a few minutes after Massa had returned from the fields and had gone into the study as usual, without anyone seeing him, One-Eye had slunk into view. He had walked up to the study window and had put one foot over the sill, but seeing the door already open, he had changed his mind and gone in through that instead. This time the baby had followed him, very cautiously. The Massa was sitting

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at his desk, and the feather glowed temptingly at his elbow. By looking through One-Eye's legs the baby could just see it. He was still looking at it when One-Eye made a lunge forward, his knife glistening in his hand, and in an instant the baby saw his Massa's throat cut, and blood spouting on the carpet. He heard the Massa give a little gurgle, and then saw him fall backward, his mouth wide open. The negro turned to flee, but as an afterthought he flung the feather across the man's open mouth. Then he went. He had not seen the little black baby.

The baby, looked at his Massa. Very ugly, thought the baby. Then he looked at the feather, more glorious than ever in the dusk. Soon the women would start their weeping and outcry ; the peace of the garden would be shattered.

But in the meanwhile the peacock's feather made such admirable designs in the dust. . . .

L. PARKS. ,

To Dons Set down the weak amidst the rugged heights To call the spirit from his mountain lair.

Set Love to tell a lover that his plights He can with every other's love compare.

Set blood to music, that barbaric minds Can tune wild senses to a balanced phrase.

You have set Youth in labs. to measure winds, Youth on your bookshelves ageless knowledge finds, Yet where's the practice but in deedless praise?

Translation from other Lands My love she is tall and dark, broadly strong as the pines.

She bends only her head in the breeze on the hills.

Her brow is smooth like the cliffs of Zrusta6 where span her eagle eyes from keen-cut ledges to the far-off slopes.

There on the grass short tufted I first met my love. Tight muscled limbs climbed to the hut, and timed a rock chant upon the slipping track.

With her she brought the milk of young goats, and loaf from the lower lands.

I sang a song to her of one I love. ' My love she is tall and dark, broadly strong as the pines.

Her brow is smooth as the cliffs of ZrustaC where watch her eagle eyes.

But her mouth half-smiling catches a dawn when on the hills darld night is falling.'

My grandmother was very old, and her face was wrinkled to a pattern like the lace she made on vast pillows. I can remember her shawl and her

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small brown slippers. But I can remember best of all two small curls which bobbled at the side of her head. They winked at the side of her little stone-carven face. They were wicked and restless, and danced when she moved at her work. When her chin pointed sharply down, supported on a thin ruffle of lace, I used to watch them slowly swaying in time to the feeble movement of her breath. Again they would dance and shine and glance when she jerked back her head. She was very old and they were very young. They were black as the ebony of her chair, and smooth and round like the turnings of the wood at her back.

I was very small and my hair was straight like many mouse-tails. At school there were many other little girls. There was one whose mother had hair golden like a great cloak around. There was another whose mother had hair like a raven's wing, and another whose curls wove themselves into a halo, and another whose plaits coiled themselves like great chains on her head. The little girls with mothers laughed and said, She has only a grandmother, and her grandmother has only two curls, and the curls are smooth like the back of a chair.'

I went one day to see my grandmother. They said that she was dead.

My aunts looked at the contents of the chests and emptied out the shawl and the brown, slippers and the vast pillows of lace. They sighed thus to benefit the poor. But in a drawer lay two black curls, round and smooth as the back of her chair. And I, who had no mother, turned and cried.

For I had now no grandmother and only two black curls.

Letters to Leda DEAR LEDA,

The lights in my lodgings are so bad. Do you think my landlady would allow me to instal stronger bulbs? I do not like to complain directly—I hate a fuss. Can you advise me?—ANxlous.

Such a coincidence ! Many years ago, I suffered the very same way.

But one night at dinner, my friends and I arranged a little demonstration with candles. You would be surprised how quickly the hint was taken.

PITY

THE POOR FLAT DWELLER !

DEAR LEDA,

I am a flat dweller, and constantly troubled by noise in the room above.

A little disturbance I could bear—but the tramp of feet and the crashing of fire irons at all hours of the day and night is beginning to fray my nerves.

DISTRACTED.

I am so sorry. Why not have a quiet little talk to your neighbours, and appeal to their better nature? I am sure they are considerate at heart. Do write and let me know how you succeed.

ANOTHER

POINT OF

ETIQUETTE.

DEAR LEDA,

It is more than a week ago since my difficulty occurred, yet I cannot help my mind dwelling on it. You see, at the end of a public dinner, a toast was proposed. I had not expected it—and I had drunk my cider ! I was horror struck ! All I could do, was to raise my empty glass. Was I right?

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How very awkward, but don't worry, dear. Probably you weren't the only one in that little fix. You'll just have to be a little more on your guard next time, won't you?

DEAR LEDA,

I should appreciate your advice upon a very delicate question. Having laid claim to a bathroom this morning, by running the tap while I went to fetch my sponge, I returned to find that someone else had the bathroom.

Under the circumstances, should the perfect lady demand the immediate surrender of the bathroom, or should she retire gracefully and Mice someone else's if possible?

PUZZLED BATHER. Very trying, I am sure, dear ! But I should not take anyone else's bath; remember that two Wrongs don't make a Right. You might, however, venture a little expostulation—when the tap has been turned off !

A BICYCOLOGICAL PROBLEM. DEAR LEDA, Can you explain the scarcity of the lesser white-tailed bipedal this season?

BICYCOLOGIST. I always like to provide my readers with a satisfactory solution to their problems, so I referred your question to an Expert. He writes :The habits of the species are unaccountable. In Oxford, their chief haunt, they are given to frequent migrations of varying length. Careful observation has failed to discover any regularity in their movements.'

I hope this will answer your question, dear. The Ways of Providence are truly unaccountable

International Student Service I.S.S. was founded in August, 1920, under the name of European Student Relief : one of the original members has described how it began at St. Beatenberg : We, the General Committee of the World Student Christian Federation, were . . . discussing the Federation, when some people got up and reminded us that we were dealing with questions which would seem to be highly theoretical, while ignoring the fact that famine, disease and death were stalking abroad in Central and South Eastern Europe. Now these were words we could all understand—famine, disease and death—and it was not long before a small committee was appointed which was the forerunner of International Student Service.'

The task achieved during the years of extreme need which followed was the raising of 12,000,000 Swiss francs by students for the help of fellowstudents. Immediate relief was the only end in view when the organisation first started its work, but two things soon became very clear. One was that need for help among students had not been, and was not likely to be, confined to the immediate post-war period ; the second was that, while there was destined to be an ever-growing need in coming years for training in intelligent international thought, this need was not being supplied by the University. In the solution of both these problems I.S.S. found itself able to give a certain amount of help.

In the first place, yet more widely extended relief schemes were carried out in Russia, South Africa, China, Bulgaria, etc., and I.S.S. found that

THE CYGNET the practical experience gained in this work enabled it to advise and organize students' own efforts to help themselves by setting up hostels, cheap restaurants, sanatoriums, or by earning money in the vacation.

As to the second problem, I.S.S., having University collaborators in all countries, and being a body with no object but the service of students, was able to bring together students of all nationalities on a perfectly neutral basis to discuss any subject of interest to them, and particularly those subjects where mutual understanding and respect between holders of different ideas and ideals are hard to achieve. To this end, many conferences have been arranged by I.S.S. at which people of entirely different points of view have been brought together to state their own arguments and hear the arguments of others, hence gaining greater understanding of the problems under discussion and, almost inevitably, more respect for opinions other than their own. These conferences may be international, as the ' Work Camps ' Conference at Rendsburg last Easter, where delegates from a number of interested countries were present, or they may be shorter and of more restricted interest, as the week-end conferences held from time to time in Oxford, a very recent one being on ' Party Government in England.'

This side of I.S.S. work, known as ' Cultural Co-operation,' has been well supported in Oxford, where conditions are particularly favourable to it. But relief, which was the first aim of the I.S.S., is still an immediate necessity, not only for the German refugee students for whom an appeal was made here last year, but also Austrian working-class students who lost all financial support as a result of the revolution of February of this year, and Bantu students, who are not allowed to study in South African Universities. Money is needed quickly for all these.

I.S.S. has no membership ; the central body is the Assembly, composed of individuals of various nationalities, and there are co-operating committees in different countries. Funds are entirely dependent on donation, and appeals are made from time to time to raise money. But those who wish to be regular supporters may, by contributing ten shillings or more yearly, become Friends of I.S.S.,' receiving all I.S.S. publications and being entitled to attend all conferences. ' Famine, disease and death's may sound like so much rhetoric, here in Oxford, but that very fact shows that we are more than ordinarily fortunate among students. It is clearly for us to give relief to scholarship where poverty is threatening to destroy it, to give ' service, university to university, throughout the world.'

Freshers' Concert After three weeks of breathless speculation, we realised that our First Year had no intention of breaking with tradition, as we listened to them tuning in with the inevitable Five Eyes.' This feature of our College life once concluded, however, we enjoyed a varied and, for the most part, pleasing concert. We commend the excellent pianoforte solos of. Miss Wise and the violin playing of Miss Field. We congratulate Miss E. Jackson on her enterprising production of Hebridean songs, and the four imperturbable pipe-players. It would be ungrateful to criticise such a well-organised entertainment, and we thank the members of the First Year for a most enjoyable evening.

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St. Hugh's Night Replete with the excellent dinner provided by the College and stimulated by our Principal's eloquence, we inserted ourselves into the J.C.R. and listened with considerable enjoyment to the concert so ably organised

by Miss Symonds. While we appreciate pianoforte solos, violin duets and even madrigals, we are moved to protest at the introduction of imperfectly ying. We would support the Olde Englishe spirit, but we executed pipe-pla like our St. Hugh's Night music to be sonorous.

We have nothing to complain of in the dramatic entertainment which followed. The originality of the play, its efficient production and vigorous acting, made this adaptation of Jane Austen's Love and Freindship ' entirely pleasing. We congratulate Miss Stephenson on her achievement and also on her excellent caste. Miss Burgess's curls, Miss Bushell's wig, and Miss Clark's accent will remain long in our memory.

Hockey We have had a surprisingly successful season so far. We are pleased with the talent which has appeared in the First Year. M. Stinton has been playing for United. Reynolds, Shaw, Scurfield and Field play in the College team. We have won eight matches out of thirteen and drawn one. The forwards combine well but are not sufficiently enterprising in the circle.

The defence are inclined to get muddled but have done good work. Our prospects for the Cuppers are moderately cheerful. M. E. STINTON.

Lacrosse MICHAELMAS TERM, 1934.

Only five freshers are playing Lacrosse, but we are glad to be able to congratulate two of them, M. Barrett and M. Gaminara, on playing for the United First XII. R. Kershaw and B. Gibbons also play for the First XII, and P. Stradling and N. Field for the Second XII. Our College team is, on paper, a good one. It turned out in full force for the first match of the term ; it did not combine, catching and passing were appalling, and the match was lost 6-1o. Since then we have never had a full First XII, but play has improved enormously. If it continues to do so, and there is plenty of room for improvement yet, we should have a really effective team for Cuppers next term.

We have played four matches : v'. Slough Ladies, lost 6—to ; v. St. Katherine's, Wantage, won 6-2 v. King's School of Domestic Science, won 6-4 ; v. St. Mary's, Wantage, lost 4-12.

Colours have been awarded to M. Barrett, N. Deas and M. Gaminara.

P. M. BRENTNALL. ,

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Netball College Netball practices have been attended, so far this season, by several keen players, supplemented by a group of able though at times unwillingly altruistic intellectuals.

The 1st Team is potentially good, but always fluctuating, since Hockey and United Netball fixtures interfere with both practices and matches. The team is chosen from the following : Smith, Sherwood, Gibbons, Fallas, Gregory, Long, Peters, Stinton, Moody and Bruce. Centre players generally combine well, and centre-attack and attack play reliably together ; unfortunately the defence is practically non-existent, and there are few applicants for the position. There have been two matches, one of which, against Heading-ton, was drawn, and the other, against King's College, was lost by 4 goals. Another match, against Wychwood, is to be played this week.

The 2nd Team is not an organised one, though Palmer, Collins, Thornton, Papperovitch and others are regular players.

Four College people play for United : —1st Team, Smith ; znd Team, Sherwood, Fallas, Stinton.

Since the majority of the Club consists of First Year members, there is reasonable hope for its future progress.

L.F. ,

HOLYWELL PRESS, ALFRED STREET, OXFORD

CONSTITUTION OF THE COLLEGE MAGAZINE. i.—That the Magazine be called ' Tan CYGNET.' 2.—That the officers of the Magazine shall be an Editor and a Treasurer, elected by the J.C.R., and an elected representative from each year.

3.—Contributions shall be accepted or refused by the decision of the majority of the Committee, the Editor reserving the right of the casting vote.

4.—The Committee shall not be held responsible for any opinions expressed in the Magazine.

5.—Nothing of intrinsic merit shall be excluded on account of views expressed therein.

6.—The anonymous character of contributions shall be respected when required.

7.—Contributions are eligible from the Senior and Junior Common Rooms, past and present.

8.—The Committee shall be empowered at their discretion to invite contributions from anyone not a member of the College.