El ,K ENTUC K lAIVi l^S^^P-L NINETEEN TWELVE ^
Arts and Sciences
AR off and away from the dirt and din of dynamos, the cackle of chickens and surveyor's swear words, dwells the soul of the College of Arts and Sciences. Not that the soul lives a very peaceful and quiet lifequite the =======     reversefor being a very sensitive sort of a
soul, he shudders sadly and slinks precipitously away whenever the croupy whistle pipes at the passing hour.   Poor, poor tormented soul, he can't get along with the siren. Still,
"The soul of the place is a delicate thing, The soul lives apart from the body."
For the body of the College of Arts and Sciences is a heterogeneous affair strung over some fifteen acres of trackless campus, stretching from the "Ed." building on the border of the lake on the northwest to the abode of the Freshie chemists in the wilds of the far southeast.
There is, however, a delicate touch of the classic spirit half-concealed in this carving up of the college body into fragments for, as one wades reflectively across the oft-times watery stretches of a half-submerged campus, he cannot but call to mind the heaven-born Hellenes who flitted from Samos to Delos, from Scyros to Sicinos, across the deep blue Aegean, to spread culture and irregular verbs to all the world.
Within this body dwells a horde of humans who have in life but a single purposeto entice the soul (or perhaps one should say animus artium et scientiarum) back into the lifeless
body. A sturdy band and bold, headed by him, god-father of the rhynchotrema and stalactites (they will not bite) is nobly supported by a score of others. There is he who daily braves unshrinking the hosts of oxymoron and colyambi and likewise he who scans the allied lines of black with eye un-quavering; the guardian of the generator and the test-tube; the custodian of the skeleton. And that undaunted warrior next appears who taps the Sphinx audaciously upon the wrist, who burrows into the dusty Pyramids for ancient Egypt's pharoahs, who wakens memories of the sleeping past and puts to rest all present happiness and whose best gift is proffer of advice on how to pluck economic blossoms from the highlying plains of social science.
Behold, also, that man exceeding Y's, the patron saint of cosiness; look yet again and view the sovereign of the syllogism and all the systems. And let not one forget that sturdy knight, protector and counselor of the fairer sex, who rushes out to battle with this war cry on his lips,
"The white man is a good man, He gives the Obongo salt."
One might enumerate a dozen others, all as fearless, all as steadfast.   But of such, enough.
The only factor in the college remaining is the drudge, the student"us." But being fully described and discussed elsewhere herein, and being, moreover, of relatively small importance, it is a waste of precious space to elaborate upon this theme.   Such is the College of Arts and Sciences.
TJ\"