-in jumping a horse 11,llllllt).( Jlllllpt.·1 .... or choosing ...,ht· k11011 •1 lier J).(.tl<"[(t'., loo \..,nlwlo\1), a cigarette;' SdfS NOTED SPORTSWOMAN ~at''lladdt: The wartime cigarette shortage was a real experience. Of all the brands I smoked, CAMELS suit me best! More people are smok:ing CAMELS than ever before! Your • Not many women can match " Pat" H ackett experience wi th intended to o r not, you ro111­/}(f r NI brand against bra nd . .. for "T-Zone" horses, bu t millions can match her experience wi th cigarettes .1 Taste ... fo r Throat. T hat's how mill ions learned fro 111 experi ence will tell Remember the many brands yo u smoked d uring the wartime th at th ere are bi g differences . .. in tas te, mildness, coolness you cigarette shortage? Whether you ... in quality. T ry Camels. Compare them in your " T-Zone." Let your ow11 Taste and Throat ... rour own ex/1rrience ... tell you "liy more people are smoking Camels than ever beforr! Accorclt/W to a recent .Natiomoitle s11roqr MORE DOCTORS SMOKE CAMELS ... T for Taste ... T for Throat •.. that's your proving ground for any than any other cigarette cigarette. See if Camels don't suit When ll.'l,597 doctors from oast to coast-in every field your " T-Zone" to a " T." uf medicine -were ask.ed by three independen l resea rc h urganitations to name the <.:igan:ue they smoked , mort rk and support of all of the teachers and staff members in all divisions of the University. "AND in the beginning was the word, and that word was Alec." With this oracle, Alfred Toombs on April Fool's Day, 1909, presented his fellow engineering students with a statue that w11s to become their patron saint. And his pame was Alexander Frederic Claire. And in the beginning also, was the University of Texas. But it was without a Coll<~ge of Engineering. (That was in 1884 when there was only the College of Arts and Sciences and the School of Law.) B,ut the need was apparent, and in 1894 tqere was created a place whence might come scholars with knowledge of the slip-stick. Since that time the College of Engi­neering has grown in stature, and the legend of "Alec," ~s he came to be known, increased accordingly. Alec had lljlaterialized when a group of rambunctious engineers decided to de­clase April 1 a student holiday. The strategy was to promenade some campus canines, with tin cans attached, down the central stairway of the Old Main Building, thus precipitating a spon­taneous celebration. Strangely enough, not a dog could be found the night before the big event, and the weary and·discouraged searchers presently found themselves holding a consultation in Jacoby's Beer Garden. There they soon spotted a five-foot wood­en statue, holding aloft a glass of suds. When the group left, so did Proprietor Jacoby's statue. Alec's subsequent history is closely in­tertwined with the development of the College. And he has served through the years as the engineers' symbol of their perennial feud with the law students and their patron saint, Peregrinus. During World War I, for instance, Alec was captured by sone renegade law students, chopped into little bits and a piece mailed to each engineering student in the AEF. When the engineers r~turned they found it necessary to commission a new Alec. But the novice saint, on his first trip to Jacoby's Bar, was captured by the Laws and horribly mutilated. Many years lated the scarred head of this particular edition of Al<>c was re­turned to the Dean of the College by Dan Moody, during his term as Governor of Texas. Most of the names and traditions of the College, with the notable exception of Alec, can be.attributed to the "Grand Old Man" of the College and of the Uni­versity, the beloved Dean T. U. Taylor. He was head of the engineering faculty from 1905 until his retirement in 1936. · He remained with the College as Deari Emeritus until his death in 1941. It was Dean Taylor's habit to mark all perfect papers with a peculiar check. One student, noticing the flourish on the end, nicknamed it "the ramshorn." The name stuck, and out of it grew The Ramshoi:n Association, a fellowship of all engineers graduating from the Uni­versity. This group, aided by Tau Beta Pi, national honorary engineering fra­ternity, is responsible for the annual Power Show, the big event of the year in the College. Dean Taylor was especially sympa­thetic with the student working his way through-the University', and for many years loaned money out of his own pocket to needy students. He eventually estab­lished the Engineer's Loan Fund, and it is a matter of record that every loan has been repaid to the last penny. He also originated the T. U. Taylor Foundation, which makes annual cash awards to working seniors. The present Dean of the College, W. R. Woolrich, was appointed at the time of Dean Taylor's retirement. At that time an established ,leader in industry and education, Dean Woolrich served during the war as Regional Adviser for the U. S. Office of Education, and as a representative of the War Manpower Commission. Today, the Dean, with the able rep­resentatives of all eight divisions of the College of Education, is planning for postwar expansion to meet the great in­flux of veteran students and the expected permanent increase in enrollment. The (Continued on Next Page) By JOHN ALVIN WEBER COLLEGE OF ENGINEERING TEXAS RANGER present enrollment of the College is al­ most 4,000. This places it twelfth in the nation in undergraduate work and sev­ enth in graduate work. During the present postwar shortage of trained technical personnel, an en­gineering degree is in itself an Open­Sesame to a good job. There are so many jobs open now for qualified persons in all engineering fields that it is difficult to get enough first-rate teachers for po­sitions on the College faculty. And it is expected that well-trained engineering grad~ates w_ill be in high depand until at lepst 1950, after which normal job compf:)tition should begin weeding out the lesse . ..-qualified. Th13 College now includes eight depart­mentp: Mechanical, Civil, . Electrical, Chem i ca 1 , Petroleum, Architectural, Aeronautical, and Ceramics Engineer­ing. All but two of the departments are fully accredited, and these two have not been in existence the required length of time. Most of the divisions sponsor chap­ ters of the.leading national honorary and professional fraternities. The Cqllege publishes the quarterly "Journal of Architecture, Engineering, and Industry." This publication is the work of the student-faculty administra­tive and editorial boards. The growth of the College has in many .ways paralleled the increase in stature of the engineering profession. In the past an engineer wa15 too often charac­terized by an overt fondness for lab reports, stale beer, and cheap tobacco, as well as a distinct aversion to "the arts." Now engineering has come of age, and such an attitude is no longer fashionable north of the Law Building. The engineer has come to be regarded as a thoroughly house-broken member of society, and not a recluse whose lack of polish and finesse forced him into a never-never land of ponderous handbooks, mysterious inscriptions, and grease­stained coveralls. the engineer studies math, geometry, trigonometry, calculus, physics and drawing . he hasn't much tim,e for campusology but his chance of getting a good job after graduation is better than average NO ADMITTANC~ ~~======:::.. happened to our so-called "Good Neighbor Policy?" The f'r=t;!=ftii~;r=f:mtk=Flttilil discrimination against Latin Americans is becom­ing me ea ingly evident in this University and State. 0 Scene I : Street. Time: A Sound E One ner tion, but quiet voice and gone, He knocked. he entered where from middle-aged for rooms for boys." The woman's eyes flickered over him, seeing his dark eyes, neat mustach~, slim brown hands. "Yes." Her answer could mean any­thing. "Do you still have some vacancies?" "Are you a Mexican?" "Why, yes ma'am." His thoughts raced -no, not here; it won't happen here. She faced him with her arms on her hips. "Well, I don't have any rooms for Mexicans." He turned and went out; there wasn't anything else to do. He walked down the street while the woman stood on her porch-watching-until he was a block away. Tpe student was from Del Rio, where his father is one of the city's most re­ spected civic leaders. The house is in the 1900 block of Wichita Street. The morning that the editorial ap­ peared in the Texan the Dean of Stu­ dent Life telephoned the woman in ques­ tion and read the article to her. "Are those facts correct?" the Dean asked. "No," snapped the woman. "I didn't bother to stand on the front porch." TEXAS RANGER DEAL SpARE, soft-spoken, genial, Dr. Mody C. Boatr·ight walks like a man in cowboy boots. He doesn't wear boots now, but he grew up wearing them on his father's ranch in Nolan County, West Texas. Except for a battered Stetson, Boatright doesn't show any signs of the "typical" Texan. Nor is he the "typical" college professor. Not talking about yourself isn't a Texan characteristic-at least some peo­ple seem to think not. It isn't typical of college professors either. But Mody Boat­right is all Texan and as genuine as a Myers saddle, and he doesn't ever talk about himself. His associates on the Uni­versity of Texas faculty speak highly of his scholarship, but Boatright hardly mentions it. This isn't because he's shy or painfully modest-he's just not think­ing about himself. He's interested in other things. This summer a reporter for the Texan interviewed Boatright. He had heard he was writing some articles on oil field folk history for Standard Oil's trade journal, The Lamp. Boatright explained (after considerable primmg by the re­porter) that he had been asked to write the series after his "Oil by Hook or Crook," reprinted in The Lamp from the Southwest R eview, got an unusually fa­vorable response from readers. Almost any other Texan-or college professor­would have thrown in another bit of in­teresting news. The Library of Congress had recently selected him to edit an an­thology of Southwestern folklore and an album of recorded folk songs and stories. The Texan got the item, but not from Boatright. He doesn't seem to fit the Texas pat­tern-or maybe he's just a pretty good refuation of the idea that all Texans are arrogant boasters. In his article "The Myth of Frontier Individualism," Boatright exploded the popularly held theory that frontiersmen were by nature rugged individualists, that they were opposed to any kind of control over their activities by their neighbors or by the government-in spite of what historians like Frederick Jack­son Turner and James Truslow Adams Tall tales Oil folklore Short stories Frontier humor English Professor Mody Boatright talks about all of them But he doesn't talk about himself and politicians like Herbert Hoover had to say on the subject. Boatright demon­strated that frontiersmen had to co­operate to live. They were individuals all right but they weren't rugged enough to fight Indians, herd cattle and catch rus­tlers alone. (Continued on Page 39) NOVEMBER 1947 STORIES I've got a little list­ l've got a little list Of society offenders w ho m:ight 'Well be Underground, And who never would be missed-who never would be niissed! -The Mikado Epsilon What War? a fixture around here. She-or Before the war you saw him, cheering ~ and taking a nip, at every football game, ···~·.·.·' and you saw him out at Barton's every i . afternoon in the spring semester. Every time you were at the Tower or the Ava­ •' lon, he was there too. He was on the sidelines at every frat intramural game '1' .. ' and in the stag line at every frat formal. He squeaked around corners in a long red convertible, a girl always by his side, a different girl every day, but all man­aging to look alike. They were all sleek, an curvacious, and all dressed in the lat­est thing from Neiman's. Neither he nor the girl said much in the ·way of conver­sation; they seemed to be restricted to catch phrases, hilarious laughter and greetings. You never heard him· say "hello" ; it was "hi there, fella," or "howya doin'?" or "ahoya boya." His-""'""'r·•" campus activities seemed to be restr' to standing either in front of or Garrison Hall bet.we~~.~~ · e com~ fr class periods yo~-~1ttif"''iil.ways be she just slipp . .ne ru at the U. D. i/'\y· , .. · that happens· som'etimes: You .d . 't / It was ,fr'at. It was Collegemember seeing he'r at :any i>ah . 'pait of' the filru.he deserved place; ·you've j,ust' seen her Atound: . befor ehad, to eaq1 his own money i~ majors in sociology ·.or maybe· holrle c; it doesn't make ~uch difference ·;h 'h. hi1 ..•.:· ther'& ·bi;,o~erage office. You didn't " .. res {. nirU:;.yoti en.vied him all his goodShe's been here a' cQuple thi s of. life. . .-. · . ' · · ·she'll lea'.ve. when she ·has · wasn't.11round for three years.' But of 'required hours, . he' ~back nQ~v, _ba1;.k at the games and .at You'll be going through th~,'T.exan