YALE AND HEARTY

There's revolt on the campus again. Yale men, having set themselves about the vigorous business of sweeping away the traditions and mocking the half-gods of old Elihu, are now farther afield. They are defying our national laws, they are refurbishing our Victorian maxims. "Yaley is breaking the sacred Eighteenth" and ho's doing it in the open. What's more, he is making "early to bed and early to rise" an unnecessary prerequisite to success. That chimeric trinity, health, wealth, and wisdom, can now be purchased out right in New Haven--for the price of a Yale tuition plus a membership in the Oyster club.

It is this last which adds the hitherto unobtainable to the triad. Wealth always came to the sons of old Eli for their decorous dress and their inherent amenities made affluence a certainty. Wisdom was easily acquired at the feet of Professor Phelps. But the social demands of Now York brought only the withered frame, the pale cheek; health was elusive. It will escape the Yale man no longer, however. It is near at hand--just the distance from the room to the basement of the Record building, for there it is that the tonic is dispensed. Four-percent beer, that creator of pink cheeks and the Bavarian contour, the health-giving virtues of which even Yale's dean extolled before a Congressional committee, flows, or foams, freely there.

For some reason, inexplicable now, of course, there is a certain social similarity between this news and another item which emanated from Yale yesterday. It is said that "a respectable girl with a handbag and a hardluck story" has been living for five days in one of "Yale's warm and comfortable buildings." Warm buildings, respectable women, handbags, real beer. Ah, truly the halycon days! Only the hardluck story is modern.