De Minimis

Sir.—May I suggets that a writer who spells the noun stationery "stationary" (see article "Voting Next Week." issue of June 10) twice in two sentences, and a staff no little interested in reading the article that they allow the error to remain, have all of them no right to represent their organ as one of student opinion.

E. Middleton.

Courtesy

Sir,—As a student of Victoria I should like to point out to other students how very easy it is to appear rude and discourteous to our public. The public look to a University for knowledge and common sense. They very rarely get the latter from as and often learn of the former, but a certain section of students spoil things for others by giving the impression that they are "intelligentsia—so watch out!" all means let us have our processions and Extravs, let us boast of our too rating football teams, our wins at tournaments (when we have them) our drama club plays and musical evenings, but at the same lime let us show some consideration to those people who occasionally have the opportunity of an insider view of University life.

Recently, when a debate was held at the Little Theatre on the subject. "Is the Church Divorced from the Public?" there was displayed unnecessary discourtesy to the Judge of the debate, the Rev. Scott Surely it is not right to keep a guest unwelcomed and waiting for half an hour? if students must attend lectures and times arranged for debates do not suit speakers taking part, then why not alter the hour of commencing debates to suit both students and Judge?

This is not the only exhibition of such behaviour on the part of the Debating Society and it seems a pity to have the second occasion go unchecked. Most of us would like Victoria to have the highest reputation in and respects. After all. "Courtesy costs us nothing "

"Criticus."

Out in the Open

Sir,—As one of Mr. Donovan's select, self-possessed and most reasonable of gentlemen, or more correctly, as an aspirant to such august company I find that forages from my ivory tower are becoming so numerous my friends seldom find me within the portals.

Now this state of affairs has followed my realisation at an early date that man does not live by bread and dripping alone and that the Arts offered a whole new world of experience and enlightenment. I determined to get a thin veneer of culture as soon as possible and so began investigating the various sources available within the University.

The notice board proved the key to everything: here I found I could harmonise with the Glee Club every Tuesday night, argue in the affirmative or negative with the Debating Society every other week, or try my hand at acting, producing or stage managing, not to mention becoming make-up or scenery expert, stage hand or electrician in the Drama Society. Well now, I found all this most stimulating, there being no end to the possibilities.

However, in time I found that whereas most of the main clubs and societies had set aside fixed nights in every week for their meetings, others organised important meetings and lectures in a most erratic manner. Thus on Wednesday evening. June 17. I found I could indulge myself in "Some Moral Paradoxes" with Prof. Hughes, or partake of the Macmillan Brown lecture on the "Novel." delivered by Prof. I. A. Gordon. For one in my position both of these lectures would prove invaluable, as it was I was reduced to tossing a coin in order to decide which one to attend ( man must have a scapegoat).

Must such duplication exist, would it not be possible to establish a liaison between the various groups concerned, with a view to creating some order out of the chaos I feel sure, planned proceedings would benefit both societies and members.

Oh, and there is also the public to be considered I happened to be standing undecidedly at the notice board Wednesday last, lamenting the situation audibly, when I was Joined by a prominent local citizen and critic, known only as H.P. to most.

We commiserated [unclear: thus like] two Jews at Jerusalem's Wafting Wall when he finally burst out wit much feeling. "A terrible blunder, sir."

There now.

Bartholomew.