K-State Libraries: Mysterious Stack Level H

"P. M. Days" by L. S. Strickler

Source:  College Symposium of the Kansas State Agricultural College (Topeka, KS: The Hall & O'Donald Litho, Co.) 1891

Can it be that P.M. Days
Are to me forever past?
Prof. Georgeson never more I’ll see,
The hoe no more I’ll grasp. 
My days as the K.S.A.C.
Are drawing near a close,
And I’m to drift on life’s broad sea,
Where “Hort.” one never knows.

And then I’ll think of days long past,
The happy days of yore;
When once I struggled with P.M.,
A haughty sophomore.
It first was down to the barnyard,
The place where Cottrell reigned,
My soft and dainty little hands
With mud and such were stained.

That day I worked in my good clothes,
My old ones I’d not brought,
And all the dirt about the barn
On my good clothes was caught.
The bosom of my nice white shirt
Showed that it had been soiled;
I marred the polish on my shoes;
My collar, it was spoiled.

Gloomy, sorrowful day of yore,
Day of the not far past,
To me you ne’er will be forgot–
My first, but not my last.
Oh! With what joy of heart I hear
The ringing of the bell–
A joy that only in the hearts
Of P.M. boys doth dwell.

But now my P.M. days are gone,
I feel no more the same;
I long to toil as once I did,
I long for wealth and fame;
But carpentry is my sad lot,
P.M. no more I’ll see;
But while I’m working at my trade,
P.M., my heart’s with thee.

One Man's Journey

As a manuscripts/collections processor, you never know what you will find in a collection.  I am currently processing Joel Climenhaga's papers and have blogged some of his writing.  Well, today is no different. 

In the early 1980's there was a K-State Radio program titled "One Man's Journey" where Mr. K-State Radio Voice of the century, Ralph Titus, talked to Joel Climenhaga, K-State Professor in the Departmetn of Theater.    Below is from "One Man's Journey," Monday, February 2, 1981.

(Ralph Titus speaking):  "This is One Man's Journey, a bi-monthly series of commentaries featuring Joel Climenhaga, professor of Theater, at Kansas State University.  Joel, on your last journey, our last broadcast, a couple of weeks ago we talked about your beginnings in the theater and you have an interesting story about your relationship with one of the biggest and brightest names in theater and television."

Finals are just around the corner...

While processing Joel Climenhaga's papers I came across an article he wrote regarding final examinations.  This reminded me that Finals are just around the corner and I thought others might enjoy this article that Climenhaga wrote on December 8, 1990 at Tarkio College in Missouri.

'The damndest student I ever met'  by Joel R. Climenhaga

"So...Final examinations are next week.  Right...

"Ready for them...?  You aren't...?  Don't feel too badly about that.  There have been thousands of students before you who weren't ready for their finals.

"Just as I wasn't ready for that Geology final back there in the Spring of 1951, when I was a student at UCLA.  I described all that in my last column.  How when I realized I didn't know any answers, I filled the exam booklet with an essay I wrote on the spot called 'My Artistic Appreciation of the Field of Geology.'

"I walked out of that examination fully expecting to flunk the course...

Monkey Mack Finds New Home This Time In a College Office

Source: 1933 Collegian

"If you should chance to drop into the vice-president's office, you might be somewhat surprised to see a docile little monkey watching you, rather appraisingly.  But that's what would happen, for the monkey's there, perched on the top of a filing cabinet, and his name is Mack.

I Must Believe in Something

The collection I am currently processing is the Joel R. Climenhaga Papers.  Climenhaga was a professor in the Speech and Theater Department here at K-State from 1968 to 1987.  His plays and poetry are a hoot to read and any graduate student needing a Thesis topic in English/Poetry or Playwriting in Theater would have material right here in the Department of Special Collections to use.

Today I want to share Climenhaga's poem "I Must Believe In Something."

"I Must Believe In Something" 

The tea grew cold quickly. Somehow the symbol lost itself in the bottom of the cup. The twenty-first consideration of the problem didn't help. 

The problem: what would happen if the sun traded places with the moon?

  Would the cow have jumped over the sun? Or would it have been a flying red horse, instead?

Would the day become night?  And the night become day?

Would love be harder to find?  Or any less blessed when found? 

Would red be a different color, after all? Would the knife at your throat seem less horrible to me? 
Would that sweet, smiling child become a monster?  That monster become an angel? These words more important?  Less profound? Since the sun and the moon would have changed, would black and white change? What will happen to gray now?  Is it possible that the world will not die?

Why do I have hope? 

From where do these tears come?  These happinesses? How can I go on leaving my life in your hands?

Why are there no answers in opposites? Can we ever understand one another?

Why do I have hope?

Shepherd's Crook (last entry)

Source: 1912 Royal Purple Yearbook

The crook was taken from the trunk in Miss Berry's room by H. E. Cate and a girl, both members of the class of 1909, one Saturday night about 10 o'clock.  Mr. Cate and Russel Lawrence then started with the crook, at once, to the home of Mr. Cate, at Eskridge.  They rode their bicycles.  It was a brilliant moonlight night, and they made good time, but their bicycles broke down before they had gone very far.  They then returned to Manhattan, and gave the crook to A. G. Kittell, who kept it in a trunk for two days.  It then was sent to Mr. Cate's father, at Eskridge.

Some of the members of the class of 1908 went on the warpath, when they found that they would not get the crook, and were so unkind as to believe the class of 1907 had helped make away with it.  The wrath of the members of the '07 class also was great, but they did nothing except to put one luckless underclassman under a hydrant.  And so the crook disappeared, and only a very few students knew where it was.

Shepherd's Crook (Continued)

They drove to where the Blue River turns to the east, near Bluemont. Clarence Holsinger ran to the river bank, and threw the spade into the water.  The river was almost at flood stage that night; the swift current swept the class emblem rapidly down stream, and Mr. Holsinger almost went with it.  The channel has since been dragged many times in unsuccessful efforts to find the spade.

      

After exploring the channel of the Blue for some time, the juniors decided that class emblems caused too much trouble anyway, and that they would let the custom die.  They did, and the class of 1897 also decided that enough excitement had been generated in 1895 to last several years.   The class feeling died down, and the campus became peaceful again.

      

Shepherd's Crook (Continued)

Source: 1912 Royal Purple Yearbook

Meanwhile, however, the engineer in charge locked all the doors at the shop.  He did not care how many class fights the students had, he said, but he did not intend to permit any disturbance in the shops.  The juniors also were daring the seniors to venture outside with the spade.  It was very evident they never could burn the spade, at least that night, so they decided to throw it into the Blue River.  Clarence Holsinger was the only man who had brought a horse and buggy.  He slipped outdoors, got the rig, and stopped east of Anderson Hall, where the road forks to go to agricultural hall.  Under cover of the draperies, the spade was taken out of the coffin.  Most of the seniors then started to the shops with the empty coffin, to deceive the juniors.  They deceived them.  After a long encounter the juniors captured the empty coffin.

Shepherd's Crook

Taken from: 1912 Royal Purple Yearbook

"Shepherd's Crook"
by Floyd B. Nichols                                                            

When George L. Clothier, [1892], planted an ivy vine just north of the east, main entrance to Anderson Hall, with a new spade, he did not know he was starting an important feature of college life.  That was class day, 1892, and he and his fellow classmates were bidding farewell to the college buildings.  He was a student of agriculture, and he believed that a spade would symbolize efficient labor, and would be an emblem that would express the real sentiments and ideals of the college.  So, after he had planted the vine, he presented the spade, after a lengthy address, to Edmund C. Abbott, of the class of 1893.  The class of 1892 then went on its way, into the world of affairs.  Soon the ivy died, but the custom that had been started lived.

Mr. Abbott was not so careful with the spade as the present classes are with the crook.  He put it in a glass cage in the south corridor, on the second floor of Anderson hall, and there it remained most of the next year.  Fairchild Hall was being built at that time.  The class of 1893 decided that the class oration would be given when the class stone was put into the building, and that the spade would be sent to the juniors with a note to the effect that the class of 1893 did not need it any longer.  This did not please the juniors.  There was considerable trouble between the classes.

Who was Edna Underwood?

Edna Worthley Underwood was a prolific writer, who wrote novels, plays, poetry, prose, short stories, and news articles. Her original works include novels The Whirlwind, The New World Trilogy; a book of essays, Songs of Dear Dead Women; two volumes of poetry, called Improvisations. She was also one of the busiest translators of her time, translating various authors' works into English. She actively published from 1911 to 1940 and was fluent in six languages. She received a gold medal for introducing the Latin poets, and a silver medal for her translations of the Mexican poets. The Latin American Institute of Culture of Buenos Aires awarded her the gold insignia for her Poets of Haiti. While in her teens, she prepared over 500 pages of manuscript for her Slav Anthology, which included Russian, Bohemian, Croatian, and Polish poets. She also translated Brazilian, Persian, Egyptian, Italian, and Chinese poets.

Source of information:

Donor file.

The Underwood Papers (1889-1946) cover the period of her most active publishing. The papers are categorized into 6 series: 1) Correspondence, 1910-44; 2) Literary Works, 1927-38; 3) Individuals, 1918-39; 4) Scrapbooks, 1905-40; 5) Notebooks, 1889-1924; and 6) Printed Material, 1895-1946. Photographs have been transferred to the photograph collection of the University Archives. The bulk of the collection consists of original works by Underwood, including poems, prose, and short stories. It also contains numerous translations done by Underwood of various authors and three plays by Underwood's husband, Robert Earl Underwood.

5 document boxes. Register. Acc. No. P 93.05