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...employment during these months, but the actual search for a job begins weeks or even months before. In general the season for Senior employment is from February until May of the Senior year. Some men may be "signed up" as much as a year before they go to work, bit one to four months represents the average interval between the acceptance of an offer and reporting for work. The important thing to remember is that getting a job takes time and thought and energy, and that few Seniors have much these elements left for anything but their scholastic work...
Ever since Irak achieved "nationhood" by ceasing to be a British Mandate and entering the League of Nations (TIME, Oct. 17, 1932), London has been anxious lest this key Kingdom on the route to India take the pan-Arab bit in its teeth and kick over the traces. These fears were sharpened by the sudden death of Irak's King Feisal, who had always been able to see things more or less from British angles (TIME, Sept. 18, 1933). Last week his young son King Ghazi, educated in British boys' schools, was abruptly mastered by pan-Arab chiefs...
Teamed at the University this week with a conventional bit of backstage vicissitude imaginatively dubbed "Sing, Baby, Sing", is an exhilarating anachronism from the days when baby still occasionally meant infant: a bona fide, unblushing Westerner called "The Texas Rangers...
...star talent secured by our contemporary college newspapers aften makes us a bit apologetic about our own home-spun product. Last year the Yale News had an undergraduate columnist of such mettle that recently that paper came forward as publisher of his collected gems at two dollars per copy. Determined to outdo us all, the Daily Princetonian has incorporated Gertrude Stein into its staff. Careful as ever not to appear ostentatious, it does not even advertise its prize, and has made her start from the very botom writing the notice column. Since no one else could have possibly written...
Last September Republican managers, alarmed at an August slump in his popularity, persuaded Nominee Landon to begin a "fighting campaign." Bit by bit his temper rose; his attacks grew stern, next vigorous, next angry. As the campaign entered its final week, they reached full fury. Not Frank Knox, not John Hamilton had ever shouted a blacker, more fearful prophecy of the doom in store for the U. S. if Alf Landon should fail of election than did Alf Landon himself when, at Baltimore this week, he cried...