SOMNOLENCE.

Wading through the choking dust of Harvard street, Brighton, on the way to Soldiers Field is not a nice price to pay for access to a game, in spite of the fact that we have grown to accept dust as the welcome alternative for rain and mud. That familiarity has dulled contempt, is no reason why climate-harassed throats should be further insulted by the steady cloud of dust and filth that rises from the pavement of that street, and from the now unmentionable bridge. The Athletic Association certainly owes the civic powers a considerable debt for police protection and supervision on the field; it is only a fair suggestion that it return the compliment by a nominal daily investment in the effective use of an oil-cart on the street near the field. Or, if it is not within the province of the Association to provide some remedy from its own funds, it certainly is its duty to see that this conspicuous emblem of poor management is somehow destroyed once and for all.