Salient. An Organ of Student Opinion at Victoria College, Wellington, N.Z. Vol. 4, No. 2. March 26, 1941
Thrill-spiked heart-throb of busted hearts and thwarted love! This colossal new feature shows that beneath the grim exterior of V.U.C. lies a fund of drama and romance, hitherto untapped (except by private enterprise).
Any resemblance seen in this stupendous serial to any living person (or persons either for that matter) remains entirely the responsibility of the reader.
The vast hall of the university seemed immense—overpowering to our heroine (called Victoria) as she stood alone on her first night at that far-famed seat of learning. After having reached the dizzy heights of the sixth form at college, it was strange to feel so small and lonely now. She felt almost ready to cry. And when an old school friend, who was busily greeting all and sundry to underline the fact that this was her second year at least; came and greeted her too, she was overjoyed.
"Oh! Viki—it's pages since I've seen you. What are you taking? How do you like it here?"
"It seems rather big at first."
"You'll soon know your way round. I'll give you a few hints, when you need them."
Viki thought a few might not go amiss right then, and said so.
"Well, if you want good clean fun, join the tramping club. If you want to know what's going on, buy "Salient"—pay 2/6 and get it for the year. And if you wish to retain your spotless reputation, beware of Joe Handsome (and then some), the Salamanca scamp."
"Oooh, a 'varsity villain. How thrilling! But I won't fall in love. I never get past admiring from afar—like you used to worship that Mr. Stewed Scones."
Who Is That Lovely Man?
Freshers welcome! What memories! what regrets! Viki was there (or we wouldn't be). We pass over the first hour or two, when we were too busy to watch Viki and too sober to be at our best. It was after supper that Viki saw a strikingly handsome young man and was so fascinated that she could not take her eyes off him all night. But oh! the rapture when he asked her to dance with him. Heaven! that's what it was. Heaven! All that night she could think of nothing else. Did he love her? He had seemed infatuated at times. "Do you take Political Science?" he had hoarsed. Certainly he had seemed less interested when she said she didn't. It was most perplexing—and so romantic.
She Loved a Cad!
So worried did Viki become that she felt must confide in someone. That man who clicked his fingers in the hall—he looked a fatherly old chap.
That was the idea, and off she skipped. The fatherly man was most sympathetic, but said that this was rather outside his normal duties. The real counterpart of the kind old ecclesiastic of the novels, who, too old or ugly to allow personal considerations to intervene, directs the love affairs of all the characters, was here (for different reasons of course). Salient staff. (Open to the public Mon. and Fri. evenings).
So off she slipped again. In Salient room she found a motherly-looking woman. She confided her woes in a tearful voice. She described her man. Something in the awe-struck countenance of her spiritual guide made her stop.
"Do you know him?" she gurgled.
"I know everything," answered the other. "I'm the Sec. of the Exec."
"Tell me all," wailed Viki. "I can bear it."
In sepulchral tones came the reply, "That is Gordime Wiley, and he is a . . . "
"The man you love is a Communist."
* * *
Well, we have got our heroine into a rum mess. What can she do? What would you do if you found you were in love with a Communist? I can hardly wait for next issue—Don't you feel the same?