To the Editor of "The Greenhillian"
Leeds,
November, 1955.
Dear Sir,
I was offered the honour of writing a contribution for the Old School Mag. and having thrust the ugly monster of work away from me for an hour or so I should like to impart a few details of the unique life of Leeds University which I have adopted as my Alma Mater. I will proffer a few pearls of wisdom and advice for any misguided creature who is thinking of entering this precinct of learning.
The first few days here go by the name of the Freshers' Conference, but it resembled a nightmare in which one's digestive organs, mental and physical, were put to the test. The lecturers impressed upon us the importance of that disgusting habit, study. They advocated five or six nights of study per week, but counter-attractions here, such as "bops" balls, and film-shows are too numerous (and cheap) to be ignored.
Viewed from inside the University, students are quite sane beings except for stubbly growths of beards, sheepdog hair, (un)-cuts, and duffle coats, but the ordinary mortals of Leeds regard us as objects set apart from this world, and as wild creatures tinkering about with test tubes, or as book-worms buried in the Brotherton. It has been rumoured here that students are divided into wits, half-wits, and nit-wits, but we are not permitted to classify our friends or acquaintances into a division.
Lectures proceed from nine in the morning until five at night; so if any prospective student has visions of the five-day week, he or she will be compelled to enter the Arts Faculty, as only the scientists, doctors and dentists are allowed to practice on Saturday morning, but of course, many of them need to do so. A full free dental service is run by students but if the tales of the horrific happenings in that forbidden fortress are true then one is seriously jeopardising one's chances of survival if a visit is paid there. My unsuspecting friend decided that a minor dental operation was necessary, but before he had entered the door an enthusiastic young dentist had blithely ripped out four teeth, but unfortunately left the roots behind.
Uniform is not compulsory, but a Uni-scarf is the mark of distinction. I am sure the unsuspecting citizens of Leeds, especially tram-conductors, quake with terror whenever the red, green and white scarves appear, and one can almost read their thoughts, and their soliloquies invariably begin "It's them students agen". We are, of course, quite harmless, and it is only when the Rag Day bug bites us that we are apt to deviate from our normal behaviour. Even then only public statues are decorated with certain articles of clothing or policemen are kidnapped and other minor items occur.
There are just a few incidents which add spice to the otherwise dull monotonous routine of Leeds such as the Engineers ceremoniously escorting a barrel of beer through the City Centre, and wearing flat-caps, bow ties, walking sticks, and huge E's sewn on their sweaters. Unfortunately it took them such a long time to walk across the zebra crossing that the traffic was halted for over a mile.
The Union building at Leeds is reputed to be the finest in the country. Everyone and everything is catered for within its sacred bounds. The Refectory, where food is designed to fill and not to thrill, is cleared of chairs for "bops" and balls, and notable and notorious people officiate at them, such as Ted Heath, Ken Macintosh and Ray Ellington. They hold their entranced, open-mouthed audience in a writhing agony trying to keep time to their blasts, wails and groans. Mr. Johnnie Ray has not yet graced us with his presence, but he will no doubt be accorded the usual welcome by the lesser publicised brands of paper. The "Union News" is the Students' Own (no resemblance to Woman's or Chick's) where views are aired and despaired of by budding literary genii who wish to experiment with their prowess before thrusting themselves on the unsuspecting public.
The fuggy, smoke-laden lair of students is "Caf", alias the Coffee Lounge. No-one knows why it is named thus because the beverage served there has evidently never been remotely acquainted with either coffee or sugar. Nevertheless the "Caf" is the only place where one can miss lectures with impunity and experience the minimum amount of guilty feelings. If one's sorrows are too deep to be drowned by coffee, the only obvious course to take is the route to the bar. This is the only Union institute which sells its potency below retail prices and still makes a considerable profit. Many Education Authorities would gasp with horror if they knew that the amounts of money, which they so readily and generously donate, were being dispensed with so readily by a student trying to blot out the prospect of the approaching exams. There has recently been an innovation in the bar in the form of a buzzer, because if the songs sung there are not "quoite noice", then the buzzer speaks.
An integral part of University life is the Debate in which many a would-be politician and never-will-be politician has been nurtured by the gentle taunts of a student audience. Every likely and unlikely topic is debated and if a person is heedless of the remarks thrown at him he is either a genius or just darned thick-skinned.
Exam time is now drawing perilously near and it is a common sight to see an inanimate object slumped over a desk in a position of utter despair with wild sunken eyes staring put through a curtain of matted hair. This reminds me that work is hovering in the proximity and I wish the Old School and all its inmates "All the best", and if anyone is still determined to taste the fruits of University life, please do not say that I did not warn you.
Yours faithfully,
SHEILA M. KNOTT.
P.S. (for girls only). The males here outnumber the females by five to one, but the surplus is made up by the Engineers and Medicos, who, by reputation, are the untouchables, and are usually better kept that way.