Page 35 - 1938

Excerpts From " It's a Great Life" PLEASANT FEELIHC
The other day we got a hunch and went down to an office called "The Student Gov­ ernment Headquarters of the United States.” We sat in the waiting room for an hour and a half (this is not our custom) surrounded by earnest members of the on-coming genera­ tion who looked as though the problems of the government were already making their lives miserable.
At last we were let into a room walled by maps of states covered with little blue and red dots. We saw three women sitting at their desks and waiting for us to say something. We did. and found out that the women were Miss Peggy Wight, Miss Bar­ bara Anderson, and Miss Louise Eggleston, heads and founders of the Student Govern­ ment Organization of America. They had just started this office, but they had been work­ ing on the idea a long time. Miss Wight takes care of the scholastic part, Miss Ander­ son of the athletic, and Miss Eggleston of the social. “You really can’t have student government unless you have a finger in every pie," they told us. We nodded wisely and asked about the red and blue dots on the maps. It seemed that the red ones were organ­ ized schools and the blue the unorganized.
“A strong government is a wonderful thing for the pupils of a school,” Miss Wight said. “If it works diplomatically, it can practically run the place.” We murmured some­ thing politely and left. Somewhere inside of us a pleasant feeling was glowing about the whole thing, but we couldn’t help thinking that we were as glad not to be a teacher as we were not to be an employer up against a labor union.
GLIDERS
While walking down Fifth Avenue yesterday, we saw a woman selling little toy gliders. As her face was somehow familiar to us we stopped and, pretending to be wait­ ing for a bus, stole the proverbial furtive glances at her. However, when we let three busses go by, she turned on us and said, "Do go away! I’m doing it on a dare. Mary bet me ten dollars I wouldn’t.” We knew her then. It was Barbara Mason, who flew non-stop around the world with Mary Morris a few months ago. We quietly bought a glider for our memory book and went on.
We answered our telephone this morning and heard someone telling us to tear down to Fifth and Thirty-fourth and see what we should see. We recognized the voice of our co-worker, Dorothy Runyon, and since we were feeling a bit peevish, asked gently why she didn’t go down. She said it wasn’t in her line,—she reviews plays for us and writes them for other people. As we didn’t feel like quibbling, we set out.
We saw a parked trailer with the sign, “Somerville & Davidson.” We nosed through the crowd to get a better view. It didn’t he'p any, so we turned to a woman be­ side us. “Excuse us,” we said, “but would you mind telling us what this is all about? We were given a withering look. “Don’t you know? They’ve come at last!” She started off,
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SOMERVILLE & DAVIDSOK