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TO THE EDITORS OF THE CRIMSON :-

IT would be natural to expect that men who had themselves experienced the difficulties attendant upon a midyear grind would so far appreciate the " demnitionness" of it as to allow others privileges they may choose to deny themselves. At twelve o' clock P. M., with the prospect of four hours' steady work before me, and with the (at another time) joyful sound of revelry in the room below me, I waive all respect of persons, and protest against the fiends of the north entry of Matthews, who prevent my neighbors and myself from doing necessary work. I had supposed, it seems fallaciously, that we were all bound by certain feelings of consideration for each other, and that the man who will want quiet to-morrow would feel it his duty, or let us say policy, to observe the rule we call Golden.

If it were the custom of the genus poco to visit us at this late hour, if an unwary book-agent had looked in on me, I should have had an outlet for my spleen. A head would have gone, the world been minus one more plague, and the Crimson's dignity saved. But the sin of this be on the heads of my tormentors.

S.