|所有来源 > Manitou Messenger (DA-MM) > The Manitou Messenger (1916-2014) > 1959 > No. 10, Vol. 72|
Among the tales from nursery rhyme days there persist two poems which ask the questions, what are little boys made of?, what are little girls made of? Relying upon sugar 'n spice and frogs 'n snails, these early poetic masterpieces succeed in answering their own questions.
If a similar question were asked, namely, what are Oles made of?, one would find a positive answer difficult to produce. The formulation of such an answer, however, could be begun by telling of what they are not made: good manners and common consideration.
Viewing the campus cows as they lumber across the Hill chewing their cud and tossing gum wrappers to the winds, one begins to speculate as to what type of homes produced such refuse reapers.
Under the guise of Christian charity, the spectator refuses to believe that Mom's home brand of discipline failed to instill in her child the knowledge of what wastebaskets are for. Yet, even respect for Mother and for the home-grown product wears thin when one looks at the spring strewn campus lawns, particularly those within eating distance of the Den.
An early evening count last Tuesday revealed, on the library lawn alone, nine pop bottles, 32 gum and candy wrappers of assorted brands, six used sandwich bags, the remnants of four potato chip sacks, and one six-pack carrier.
This last one was nestled against a tree trunk and had obviously blown in from Pop Hill.
Humorous as the above situation may be it still displays a lack of regard for one's fellow students and for the campus itself. If an Ole's one source of relieving tensions and of throwing spite in the face of school administration policy is in littering the campus with trash—thereby making it a garbage hill—I suggest he hike to a barren countryside and toss to his hearts content. If, on the other hand, it's simply laziness on the part of overgrown kids I suggest we make use of a few more wastebaskets. Let's try to hide the fact that what St. Olaf is producing is not a bevy of youthful scholars and leaders, but a rapidly growing fraternity of cultural boars.