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Salient: Victoria University Students' Paper. Vol. 26, No. 11. 1963.

Around The Campus

Around The Campus

The third term has come again, with its threat of finals, of coffee and cigarette filled nights, the sorting out of notes, the poring over old papers, those dreaded dull looks on the faces of the candidates; the nervous searching for your name in the Dominion, the excuses, the rationalisations of disappointments.

Examinations are grim affairs, a contest between you and a magical percentage. Who would have thought they would ask about the Michelson interferometer? Yet there it is, glaring off the paper, malignantly. You look around. The joker next to you is scribbling furiously; he has already asked for more paper; your eyes meet for an instant. He understands.

The end of the second term was rather hectic. After the exams I roared off to a couple of parties. At one I witnessed a delightful fight, although I'm not quite sure what it was all about, but anyway they proved their point. The Weir ball was a great success even though the men in blue turned up and threw everyone out. I failed once again to get my photo in the Sports Post.

I saw the game between the "University All Stars" and a Dannevirke XV, which Dvke won 33-14, the local paper saying it was very even and all in all a fine game of rugby. The boys were obviously surprised at the ease with which grog was acquired on a Sunday, and put on one of the shabbiest parties ever seen in that part of the country. The poor joker who was host had to get the commercial cleaners in the next day. There was, however, an astonishing lack of females there. Even Tony Timms missed out sadly, which gives you some idea.

After the Easter tournament I made mention of a Canterbury chap with a wonderful repertoire of party songs. I have since made the acquaintance of a bespectacled and innocent-looking gentleman who surpasses that man from Canterbury. To look at him, you wouldn't think that Derek Milne would ever have heard of Mexican Pete, but, let the party get going and he is away, a malicious gleam in his eye, a guttural harshness in his voice as those frightful phrases are grated out, and a beguiling innocence as he flits past the double entendres.

Max Bullock has threatened me with all sorts of dire calamities if I mention him, so I won't.