THE IMP.
March, 1919.
EDITOR. A. G. YOUNGHUGH ES.
YEAR REPRESENTATIVES ON COMMITEE. A. ROBERTSON F. PRIEST SHAW
1\1" HORA
Third Year Representative. Second Year Representative. First Year Representative.
TREASURER. Z. I.J.Nno.
The IMP. MARCH.
No. 2.
1919.
CONTENTS. 1
EDITORIAL ...
EPITAPHS ON A BICYCLE TYRE 2
SEPTEMBER (Verse) ...
9
THE DIARY OF SANITAS THE MARTIAN ... NOVEMBER 11 1918 ...
THE FLAT FISH, A CHARACTER
12
THE CHEMIST (Verse) ...
HOSPITAL LETTERS ...
4
CIVITAS DEI (Verse) ...
7
13 A BURNING QUESTION OF THE 14 DAY OR NIGHT (Verse)
"AND THE SUNSHINE AND THE PALM TREES AND THE TINKLING TEMPLE BELLS" ... ... S
A Wisp HINTS TO TROUBLED STUDENTS 16
STUDY
3
EDITORIAL.
The Imp was prevented from appearing last term by the "flu' It is now hoped that it will continue to appear every term in the future. We hope our readers will welcome its return to health and support it in its future career. We print both epitaphs andleave our readers to choose. For the character sketch only one entry was received. We would venture to suggest that in future the "Imp" need not be a store house of literary master pieces alone: but that members of College whose genius lies in other directions should give us blossoms from thier private gardens, vulgarly called "shops". We do not request technicalities. nor potted knowledge: but we do feel that in this way the "Imp" might help to incite and widen sympathies.
THE IMP
EPITAPHS ON A BICYCLE TYRE. 1. She bore me mid the much muddied ways Beside the Ford of Ox, Mid motor-bi and bikes and drays And crowds of herds and flox. A never -to - he - too -much -damm'd nail Up pointing to the sky Sent the dear life breath out of her, In one long choking sigh.
Ibore her home mid sweat and tears, Arriving late for tea, I tried to blow her up again But napoo R. I. P. M. Q. HAIG.
2. Time, to conform to fashion's dream, Hate sold his famous equine team, Consigned his chariot to the fire, And bought a chauffeur's neat attireHe now a motor car desires, And scans the earth for fairest tyres. Thee, 0 my help, my rubber jewel, I thought thee safe. But time was cruel, Thou vast not born to serve a car, As tyres of grosser substance are. Nay, thou art dainty, elfin like, Fashioned to fit a maiden's bike, Yet since Time's car is wondrous light, He's seized thee for his own delight, Punctured thy body, smooth and soft, And snatched thy soul to realms aloft There, it may be, with weeping eye I'll see thee cross the sunny sky, Pray that thy master use thee well, As I, when thou on earth didst dwell. And, cycle-tyre, do thou for me The service I entreat of thee.
3
THE IMP Let time not ride too swiftly past When moderations hold me fast. Slacken his speed, suggest he stay And linger on that happy day; Or if too stubborn prove his mood, A heavenly puncture might do good.(In such thou avast adept on earth.) Tyre, fail me not, but prove thy worth,, So shall great honour come to thee-"Honours", I hope and pray, to me! -
•1
sit
N. HORA.
THE FLAT FISH. We called him the "flat fish" because his face seemed to be the biggest, roundest, flattest one we had ever seen. Can you imagine a plaice articulating with a pair of shoulders, the colour and texture of a football at half-time, spotted with calf grey moles, and wearing a pair of spectacles? If so, you have a likeness of the old man at the bicycle shop. He greatly resents your asking for what he has not got. The one thing he has a plentiful supply of, is luminous buttons. We constantly go in for some. If we wore all that we have purchased we should be studded over with as many dots of ghostly light as there were eyes in the head of the gentleman who harassed Io. But when, upon our demanding two or three, he has uncovered them from some really.impenetrable recess, he chuckles, and says greatly dubious, either doubting his ears or our pronounciation of the. • word, "Loominous buttons; did you say loominous? Funny word loomnous." He apparently assesses such items at their proper base value. No doubt money to him is but dross and "filthy lucre." Once you penetrate the Chestnut burr of his gruff manner, you will find the smooth, fine nut of his disposition inside. I shall never forget the time I left his telephone upside down. When in answer to his rather superilous heat, I said he was really making me weep, he suddenly stopped. Without begging my pardon, he walked to the door with.a slow cumbrous step, and called his dog in, a beautiful Collie, the friend of his old age. ,
"Bot," he said, "make a bow. Show the lady how clever you are,"
4
THE IMP
and a funny little bow the dear creature made too. I suppose this was the apology though he himself clearly did not apprehend it as such. A. PARK.
HOSPITAL LETTERS. Sometimes as I sit in my comfortable chair by the fire, correcting essays on Dryden and Pope, or preparing instruments of torture in the shape of questions about Molock or Beelzebub for the Milton revision class, I can hardly realize that I am the same person. as the V. A. D. who for so many months scrubbed and dusted, made beds, took temperatures, and dressed septic wounds at the 1st Bor()Ugh Red Cross Hospital, Cambridge, or at No 1 and No 11 General Hospital, B. E. F. Few things bring back to me so vividly the rememberance of those busy hospital days as the sight of a number of ill-spelt pencil-written letters which I have kept carefully among my souveniers of the B. E. F. Letter-writing was the favourite occupation of the patients at the hospitals in France. Nurses are not allowed to act as censors, so I had not the opportunities of which many officers --- "Ian Hay," for example ---- have made literary use, but patients would sometimes take us into their confidence, as did one man who shewed me with some pride the verses which he was sending to his wife; I have forgotten the earlier stanzas, but the two last ran thus Do not quite, I beg, forget me, Keep for me a little spot, In the depths of your affection Plant a sweet for-get-me-not. Though distant miles may part us, And thee I cannot see, Remember it's Bert your hubby That sends these lines to thee, Such fluencey, however, was rare, and when I saw the former miner or field labourer struggling painfully with his pen, I used to hope that the wife or mother on the other side of the Channel would not be disappointed at the scanty amount of news, but would understand how much effort had been spent on the production of those stereotyped sentences--- "Hoping this finds you well, as it leaves me in bed," and _the like, Many of the men were very good in writing to thank us after they
THE IMP left hospital. Most of those who had ,gbne to. England concerned themselves chiefly with the details of the journey, as in following- let ter, written soon after the great bliziurd in March 1916. • Dear Sister Just a few lines to let you know that I arrived quite safe in England; it was a very long journey for us as the train service was very slow on account of the telegraph wires being smashed up so, but I was very Pleased to get settled down again we was 24 hours on.the boat before we started from Havre and when we got to Southampton it took the train 13 hours to come to here it was One O'clock on thursday morning when we arrived here so we was on the way a long time from monday at noon but I did not mind that as long as we got here alright it is a very large Hospital where I am at Present and we are having some very nice weather here just now and I hope I shall soon be able to get out a bit I am going on nicely at present give my best Resp [i.e. respects] to the Orderley and Mc Guire" [another patient] if he is still there so I must close' now with the best of luck to you. I remain Yours Resp Pte. S. M.--There is a more individual flavour about this letter from a fair curly-headed boy who was evidently determined to make the best of everything: Dear Miss Spearing Very pleased to tell you I arrived quite safely after a very good crossing we were sent from Southampton and the officals ask us where our destination was so there were several of us- said London well we were put in a Hospital train which I must say i s a very nice arrangement-and when the journey was finished we found ourselves at Exeter. We were received by V. A. D. stretcher bearers all under an officer of the R. A. M. C. I was placed in a Motor Car kindly lent by a shopkeeper of the town as we went through the streets we were cheered by the people of the town. We were received in the hospital by a civilian doctor under government of corse and I was sent to ward 6 there we have been very well looked after every attention is given us day and night... Private Newman who is in room 8 wishes to be remembered to you I might mention we are both in the same ward which only holds 6. I must bring my letter to a close wishing you every success and good health. I remain Yours Sincerely Rfm L---P. S. Please give my regards to the Corperal.
.
THE IMP
6
Some of the letters were full of gratitude for the treatment which the writers had received in France, and not all the men were sure that they had benefitted by the change to Blighty. One man remark-. ed, "Well sister i may say that i am glad to say that i am on this side of the Channel but for treatment i would rather be at No 1" A sergeant writing to the Sister in charge of my ward described the new hospital in which he found himself, and added "Of course you can understand all this when I tell you that it is a workhouse, you know what mean worked on town counsel principles.... You told me a few times that I should wish that I was back over there and I assure you that you was right, I shall always appreciate the kindness that I had shown to me there and I hope you will thank them all both sisters and orderlys on my behalf for the way I was treated and if it ever happens to come in my way that I can return it I shall do so." Another man says gallantly, "The Nurses are a fine lot here but not so good as they were at No 1." There is a pleasant touch of marital devotion in Sergt B's description of his new hospital, "They are not bad, the folks here. The treatment is lay in bed and wait and see the results and when you are fit they send you on convalescent for a month to different parts of the country, and then 10 days. leave but some prefer leave straight away and go without the convalescent well, I shall not be sorry when I'm with the wife, for as the saying is, I'm dying for her awful isn't being married." Pride in the achievements of our ward forbids me to omit this letter from a patient who had been at deaths door with pnenumonia. It was sent to the Sister in charge. and she and I laughed together over the joke about 'ell. Dear Miss C--You will see by the above address that I have arrived here... Of the two Hospitals I much prefer the one in France. They have the wrong number on this ward L 2. It is far too cold to be called L. It is a long corridor about 70 yards in length with open shutters,' and I have not been warm since I arrived here, it is frightfully cold.... To-day Monday he [the doctor] came and examined us, he said I had got over my complaint so well, it was difficult to believe I had been ill. I told him I had received very skillful treatment and good nursing at --, and he ventured to smile, rather loud. I had a had time crossing, and was sick all the way over, but afterwards was as hungry as an hunter, some ladies came on the train and gave us tea, biscuits, chocolates, and cigarettes.... . The Dr wrote down all Particulars of my illness to-day, Place, and symptoms, and hospital where I was treated at. He seems a very nice man, only he does not pay
7
THE IMP
the attention to the cases as our Dr did at No 11. I told them here, that all the best Drs and Sisters were in France, and I got a smack on the head for it, only not a hard one of course... I was treated so well at No 11 that I shall always remember it. Now I must dry up, it has taken me a long time to write this letter because my hand is so cold, I can scarcely hold the Pencil, and I am not too strong in the fingers yet. Now for the Present I wish you good--- Be and Good Luck from piur old Patient J. P. .
w.
Letters also reached us from the men who had gone back to the front, but fear of the censor generally made them omit all reference to the battles in which they took part. Occasionly there was a reference to some particularly narrow escape, as in a letter from Driver B of the R .F .A. who remarked "The other day three shells droped about five yards off, one in front one behind and the side of 11F, still we are none the worse for it," but usually the fighting was only described in general terms such as "The Huns are getting their own medicine served out to them and I don't think they like it, we are having some lovly weather here now, which makes things bet-. ter for everybody." One letter written in the middle of the 1916 Battle of the Somme was occupied entirely with the writer's gratitude for a small parcel sent him and his disgust at the cold wet weather of the last two days. I have some other letters which are among my most prized possessions, for in them the patient becomes the friend who lets one see something of his real inner self. A motor transport man sends a photograph of his little girl, and on the back are the words "From Gwennie to the nurse who has been kind to her Daody." He adds that he will certainly follow the advice given him, as he is afraid that if he has another attack of illness he will become a cripple for life "so I must take great care seeing as I have my little cot to keep going." Another writes enthusiastically of the beauty of the new camp to which he has gone with "vast hills on two sides of us, where the snow has not yet melted, and on the other side a great plain stretching as far as eye can see." And sometimes the veil is lifted yet further, and one catches a glimpse of something infinitely lovable and courageous--- of the real inner man struggling valiantly, in spite of physical weakness and the burden of home anxieties, against the terrible loneliness and temptations of army life in a foreign land. From such letters I may not quote, for it would he to betray the writers' confidence, but I would like to say that my whole experience in hospital in France taught me, as it has taught innumerable others, that no human being can be dismissed off-hand as commonplace, that a capacity for heroism exists very often where one
8
THE IMP
would least suspect it, that human courage and loyalty can overcome pain, sorrow, and fear--- in short, that the spirit of man is the candle of God, and that there is no place too dark for it to brighten. E. M. SPEARING.
CIVITAS DEI. Once more I hear the dream-wind in the trees And see the sky stretching from dawn to dark And mark the spires, a mirage on the mist, And stand and pray as they do - drawn to Heaven :"0 God of Life and Love: Thy constant breath Breathes change unchangingly from age to age: Time and Eternity and Death and Life Meet at each moment; nothing shall be lost. Knowledge and mystery, harmony and rest, Alpha and Omega, are one in Thee."
AND THE SUNSHINE, AND THE PALM TREES, AND THE TINKLING TEMPLE - BELLS. These are familiar words to many of us. We have heard them quoted, we have heard them sung,-- we remember the lilt in Cobb's famous setting,— and many of us have read them over to ourselves or to others, lingered over them, repeated them, and - perhaps - wondered a little. They have a pleasing cadence as we sit by some glowing fire listening to the swirling storm outside; they create a pleasing vision as we lie in a punt tied up under a willow. And we hesitate as we drop out the phrases one by one: "And the sunshine-and the palm - trees -- and the tinkling temple bells," What does it all mean? We love the music of it, but do weever picture to ourselves the setting that the words describe? "And the sunshine." The warmth of the East is wonderful in its tropical luxuriousness, its growth-inspiring qualities, its glow and comfort, and simple splendour. Apollo is God to the East, and we are allowed to come near the presence and worship. Life is permeated with life-creating power, and its light streams forth upon all. Far-glancing Apollo bends a kindly gaze on his followers, and the Lord of life and light and healing is a reality and is not lost in nebulous myth. Two memories rise before me as I write. The road which my
THE IMP
9
head-quarters are situated is red as any Devonshire lane; rich red soil, stamped hard down, greets one as the rickshaw coolie swings round the corner; flanking the redness of the road rise the magnificent flamboyant trees, deep green against the blue sky, and crowned with the splendour of flaring gold and scarlet blossoms. Fifty feet high they curve their living glowing archway above the cool green, and above all streams the warmth, the sun, the light. But Apollo reveals himself in quieter, calmer, holier moments. A long, night journey of fourteen hours is nearly ended. A dusty, tired, weary train moves slowly across the Elephant Pass as if glad for a few moments-to suck in the moisture rising from the water, and to cool the parched woodwork of the carriages. Equally parched, weary passengers sigh -- not for water, but for coffee; and harrassed officials -- probably government on circuit -- curse the northern province and the journey thereto. And then suddenly long fingers of light write across the apple-green of the sky, the fingers change and become the wheels of the coming chariot, and in the chariot Apollo appears, glowing, ruddy and beautiful, tinting the plain and the palms and the paddy, and all alike thank GOD for the sun. "And the sunshine--- and the palm trees ---" Possibly the scientist or the critic could judge between the palms in their varying moods -- certainly their lover cannot: they hold the spirit of the East, whether they stand at dawn, just tipped by the coming light, like a maiden waiting for the fuller kiss of her lord; whether they brood in the moonlight by the gorges where the stream ripples below; whether they stand immovable in the night-watches, or murmur in the noonday, or are lashed by the wind and rain into an impotent fury, bent before the tearing blast, writhing in agony in the grasp of the storm, to be as soon lulled again into drowsy contentment, perpetual peace, and yet perpetual wonder. "And the sunshine -- and the palm - trees -- and the tinkling temple bells." So the cycle is completed -- warmth, beauty, and harmony. Picture to yourselves hundreds upon hundreds of natives waiting by the road-side, clad in their gaily-coloured dresses. Warmth is there, whether of colour or of feeling or of atmosphere -- beauty -is there, whether of nature or of person, -- and through the scented air comes the harmony, the swaying jingling bells on the sacred elephants,or the single note of the temple bell -- insistant, lonely, but above all melodious. We are content. And as 'the crowd disperses and the day wears on, the noise of the bazaar and the boutique dies down, and the tramp and tread and passing of feet dies away, we do indeed "heed
10
THE IMP
nothing else," and are conscious only of the charm, the call, and the complete surrender of man to the "palm-trees and the sunshine and the tinkling temple bells.' I. S. P.
SEPTEMBER. Frail and impalable as thistle head Gssamer-wreathed at noon, the pale earth floats In a pale sea of mist; like dusty motes The wheeling birds are marshalled overhead. They are the only living things who know The restless impulse of desire or fear; Time's creel progress is arrested here, Day knows no noontide change, but slow The fair lours on from dawn to twilight pass Over the folded shadows of the plain, And change and wide-winged Death and Pain Are seen remote as in an ancient glass. This year will Time tread no more where he trod In other years, the gold leaves never fall; Enfolded in a still serenity shall all Exist immortal as a dreaming god. J. E.
TRANSLATION OF THE DIARY OF SANITAS THE MARTIAN. Monday, 16th of March 2,000 A. D. Strange and wonderful day - -day which shall at last see the consummation of so many years of patient, unremitting toil. Looking down last night upon that tiny star called Earth, little did I dream that the morrow would see me starting for its distant light. All has been kept secret as the news would arouse too much emotion in the breast of the common Martian. Enongh I it is for such highsouled discoverers as we that nature should unfold her secrets. Is it not fitting too, that I, who have studied the ways and customs of that wonderful planet, should be the first to look upon its green fields, its stately buildings, and find myself among its noble and generous peoples. ,
To - day I start for the earth, to - day I leave this University, follow-
THE IMP
11
ed by the wistful eyes of my less fortunate fellow - labourers. The Zephyrphone even now waits in the shed -- Earth, in a little while I shall behold thee -- Man, thy hand is already clasped in mine. Tuesday. All has gone well -- I have landed on the shores of the Earth. London is the metropolis of England -- London is the centre of the world. To London therefore they directed the machine. I alighted on the outskirts and pushed on, hoping to see the vast dome of St. Pauls loom before my eyes and the fairy towers of Westminster. And was this the Earth I trod -- these fields littered with straw, rank with weeds, mouldering, haystacks by their sides, surrounded by hedges, ragged and gaping? The road itself was a quagmire. I went on -- everywhere heaps of rubble and stone half - burned sodden edifices, and dreary wastes of land. "This is strange," I said, "has there been some dreadful warfare, unknown to the inhabitants of Mars, or have I indeed alighted by a ruined city and not by prosperous London?" For now I had sure signs that a city had existed - I could even mark the once stone paved streets, Then I came to a melancholy stream. "Is this the Thames," I. cried "Where are its barges, its steamers, its hundred bridges?" A broken stone wall crept along beside it and everywhere, as far as eye could see, lay masses of charred brick, slime - covered stone, relics of houses, of streets, of a city that had once lived. By the wall there leaned a desolate figure, clad in the garments of Earth, but in garments that had been mended and patched in a thousand places. I accosted him. "Sir" I said "I am a Martian and one who has closely followed the affairs of. Earth all his life. Pray tell me where I am and what terrible internecine warfare has brought about this destruction." "No warfare," he answered, "on the contrary, the Millenium, has at la ;t arrived." "I am delighted to hear it," I said "if you would tell me your name, we might get to business more quickly." "Name !" he replied with a lift of his.eyebrows. "Names were bolished in the year 1988. The rights of the individual must be put before the good of ,the community, Names are a continual tax upon the memory -- the individual haS the right to call or be called whatsoever he likes. Bur, before law was passed,- I was ,known , by the name of Saturnine."
THE IMP
.12
"Then Saturnine is this indeed London?" "It is," replied my gloomy friend, "or rather it was. We abolishen Production in the year 1990. Since then men have found it more convenient to live in caves. There was nothing to strike about -- no business offices -- no materials for shops -- no food -- nothing doing." "You abolished Production!" I gasped. "Oh yes/ but that was quite recently. First we had the government of the few by the many, for of course you know the theory that the more uneducated a man is the greater faculty of administration lies enthroned in his breast. But when the many had exterminated the few and there were no more kings and nobility to do the work, they abolished Production. The pernicious idea that men should join together and work for each other was exploded many years ago. "Indeed" I said "Then have you no laws no system of government no religion?" -
-
"My good man" he said impatiently "I fear that you have not grasped the fundamental principle that underlies it all. A government is necessarily bad all men are born free. If they are born free, who made them slaves to the opinions of their fellow creatures? Laws are restraints formed by the concurrence of the majority for the suppression of the noblest impulses in man's nature. If a man would murder his neighbour, what right have other men to step in and deprive him of life for a sin against the community. All laws retard human progress; the fallacy that men are born bad and must be thus governed and restrained in order that by slow degrees they may struggle upward, is false in its very essence. If a fire is supressed it bursts out again with greater violence. Men are born angels, at least if they are not, they ought to be, and it is only this continual nagging and sense of constraint that raises their evil passions. Why be punished for stealing when food is free to all? We live in the world and every man has a right to everything in the world. But no wonder they got peevish, when they were not allowed to poison an obnoxious aunt or an irascible father in - law. But I forgot - we have abolished Relationships. For relationships are mere tyranny, refined and embellished by such cant phrases as love, duty and respect." -
-
-
"Excuse me" I said faintly "but my head is reeling." But he continued "Of course after the terrible bureaucracy at
the beginning of the last century, only one thing could be done.
THE IMP
13
We are not like nature - nature who grows and proceeds with a 'steady purpose of its own. Why should we be like trees - why should we build our honses with foundations? Everything that is old is bad - of that there is no shadow of doubt therefore sweep everything old away and behold a beautiful new world - no order, no prejudices, no antiquity. What a wonderful world! for it contains nothing. But now we come to a dilemma" and he sighed deeply. I waited for his words dumbly for all coherent power of thought had completely deserted me. He continued in a dreamy tone "A difficulty confronted us almost at once. For if an idea is not new it is old - how were we to know how long an idea is new and therefore uncorrupt? They fixed a year as the time - limit, but men arose, saying that that was mere conservatism and was retarding the progress of the human race. Now, "with pride iv his voice," I have the pleasure of telling you that an idea is new for exactly a minute." I held my aching head "Good Heavens!" "So in our continual searching for the new and therefore the good, we came upon something that man never evolved before. For we discovered that the animals had never had their chance. It is an axiom too trite to be repeated that trust begets trust, confidence will always bring out the highest traits in character. So we gave the animals their chance. The result was that these base, ungrateful creatures turned upon the hand that fed them and the human race is now entirely enslaved by the beasts." I remained silent: the climax was too horrible. Then I turned to go back to the sanity of Mars, the calm of my university, my reasonable, well - governed fellow creatures. The Earth was a desert and man the slave of beasts. So had the highest hopes, the earnest strivings of centuries turned into Anarchy through the foolish dreams of a handful mad fanatics But I said one thing before I went. "Tell me" I said "Do you, yourself, carry out in practice, the theories you have profounded to me?" A slow, sad smile flitted over his face "Who could?" he answer.. ed. Here the diary breaks off. Anon.
14
THE IMP
NOVEMBER 11 1918. Silence lay about our hearts who wept. Round the lonely spheres she slipt Her mantle cool - when from a bird there crept, A sweet solitary song.-Eternity now pulses with the beat Of those winged souls that throng In extasy about the Father's feet. V. HOUGHTON.
THE CHEMIST. Well - ten years lost - and all to add A dot to one of Learning's i's The cost - the best of youth and life And problematic fame, the prize. (Little red - haired Hilary -Are you woman most or child? And what's the count I'd like to know Of the fools that you've beguiled?) Here -- the burette, slim and straight, Like her -- except 'twould snap in two, And she reed-like -- One, two, three, four _m, good. The last test, now It does. -- H If the stuff burns, the proof's complete (How it flickers in the jar! Dancing -.like Hilary's feet,) Good! good! It burns? The thing's clean proved. (Burns red too, red as Hilary's hair' Lord if it hadn't! Ten years lost! I wonder now if she would care? Oh -how I hate this four square room! These bare, blind walls and acrid stench! The test tubes in their ordered ranks All prinking primly on the bench! I loathe those portly smug retorts Smirking complacent on the shelf, And those self righteous bottle rows So neatly labelled -- by myself. Those ten starved years! - Oh curse my store Of sterile, arid Chemist's lore! I'll build those years a funeral pyre, And all I have shall feed the fire! My wealth, skill, knowledge, name and fame,
THE IMP
15
I'll turn the damn lot into flame, And go out and kiss Hilary.!
A BURNING QUESTION OF THE DAY -- OR NIGHT. Cold is the wind - the water's cold, My feet and hands are freezing: A shudder runs throughout my frame, A sharp convulsive sneezing: And as a starving man will dream Of Epicurean dinners, My brain, congealing, thrills of warmth Denied taus poor sinners:A red-hbt forge - a bad ufauxpas"A wavering candle flame Empedocles on Etna And the lamp that bears that name A burning ghat - a Black Hole Or the river Thames on fire Asbestos - and the hissing flame Of gas - magnesium wire A furnace - and a stumbling block Electric lights and kettles A flying train that thundering by Sends sparks along the metals _ A temperature - an eiderdown Some furs - a crucible Hot water bottles that don't leak A store that doesn't smell
-
-
A hockey match - a cup of tea A treadmill Oxford Station My feelings when I came to write This hurried peroration! -
-
-
-
M. A. Westlake.
A WISH. We breathe the volcanic fumes of death, unconscious of the de-
16
THE IMP'
struction to come, as a child asleep in a burning house. We latigh so loud, we cannot hear the rumbling sound close underground. Oh, for a breath of cool mountain air blown straight from the frozen snows. Here in the valley we choke and die. Thank God, there is another land, where there are such things as bright stars, snow capped mountains and vast endless oceans, where the mind is raised from the narrow sphere of self and the trivialities of life, Yet how little do we know of these glories! How content we are to lie dozing in the sunshine, to contemplate our food and our clothing and talk our own small talk. Instinctively we rise up in arms against those who dare., however feebly, lift their eyes to the hills. Without knowledge we condemn, and without thought we despise. Stay, let us pause for one brief space of time. Let us awake from our apathy and climb the mountain and look upon this other world. These all breath e the sweet air of freedom blown from the portals of the sunrise, coming with the freshness of dawn, and telling of the great peace beyond. As the sun kisses the snow with its warm rays until from her slumbers the sweet snow-drop is aroused and greets the world with her loveliness, so may all indifference vanish in the presence of that grace which bids each life seek the tender light of the morning star. •
HINTS TO TROUBLED STUDENTS. by One - who - knows. A new original, mathematical, methodical, successful and practical method of essay writing. Observing the tediousness of Our present System of essay writing and its so-often-so-little successful results we have ventured to propound to our readers a means by which the unnecessary time now wasted in reading may be avoided.
-
First the number of pages required for the essay should be procured and carefully numbered, the middle page being marked with an asterisk. The book it is intended to deal with should then be taken up in the right hand and the pages run through between the fist finger and thumb of the left hand; while the letters of the author's name are recited in a low monotone' On coming to the end the first finger should be promptly thrust on the page arrived at and the quotation it rests on noted down. Having by this method obtained a sufficient number of quotations the longest should be plac-
THE IMP
17
ed at the beginning of the first page, the distance between its first and last word carefully measured, and the second quotation placed at an equal .distance below. Then taking the number of pages as a common ratio the quotations should be placed at a distance from one another in ascending geometric progression, until after the middle page, when the centre should be changed to minus the number of pages. The space in between can be filled in with Comments referring to the quotations or not as is desired. Some writers prefer the date of the author's death to an asterisk on the middle page. In dealing with more than one author the- required works should be placed in a semi-circle in front of the writer, and the number of pages devoted to each judged from their relative importance, which can be found in any good history of literature. Members of the history school would, find this method equally successful by substituting facts for quotations, but they are advised to use the metric system. 2). The correct Method of eating a bun at 11 o'clock or about in the demi-semi privacy of Boffin's. Having extracted a penny from your purse and rolled it to some distant corner of the shop to divert the shop keeper, decide swiftly on the type of bun required; and harpoon it firmly and unflinchingly on the reverse end of a fountain pen. Holding the pen perpendicular to the floor let it revolve round nibbling as it goes. The method besides being dainty and attractive dispenses with the necessity of removing the gloves, 3).
Suggested Costume for a fancy dress ball.
A student hard pressed for work and eager not to neglect her social duties, would find it simple and economical to go as her own luggage. She would wear a large travelling rug tied round her waist and reaching within five inches of the floor. Above this and under her arms she would strap a large hold-all. This completes the whole essential part of the Costume. Two small travelling bags would be effective as slippers : round her neck the student should tie a large label bearing her name and the address of the nearest institution for the feeble minded, secured effectively with a pale blue satin ribbon about 42 inches wide. As a head piece she might wear a Salvation Army bonnet or a biretta or a porter's cap (any of which can be obtained by knocking down the owner.) An umbrella or two and a few hockey sticks protruding from the top of the hold-all would be realistic. The sleeves of any light evening frock would harmonise. A. G. YOUNGHUGHES.
CONSTITUTION OF THE COLLEGE MAGAZINE. I.--That the name of the magazine shall be THE IMP. II.--That the officers of the Magazine shall be an Editor and a Treasurer, elected by the J. C. R. and a representative from each year, elected by their own years. III--Contributions shall be accepted or refused by the decision of the majority of the committee; The Editor reserving the right of the casting vote. IV.--The Committee shall not be held responsible for any opinions expressed in the Magazine. V.--Nothing of intrinsic merit shall be excluded on account of views expressed therein. VI.--The anonymous character of contributions shall be respected when required. V.—Contributions from the Senior and Junior Common Rooms, past and present, shall be accepted. VI.--The Committee shall be empowered to invite contributions from anyone not a member of the College at their discretion.