ON A HACKNEYED SUBJECT.

Weather is the ideal conversational bromide because there are no two ways about it. A condition of rain, or snow, frigidity, or humidity, leaves no room for argument. While beer at smokers may or may not be a curse, there can be no doubt about the status of a Cambridge winter. Secure behind unanimity of opinion, we feel safe, therefore, in advancing a few editorial remarks on the weather.

At present the weather is markedly disagreeable. While we cannot legislate such a condition away, we can do something to thwart the malignant Providence which foists it upon us. Whether or no Cambridge has an ordinance commanding the clearing of walks, it still remains the duty of property owners to make them as usable as possible. On the southern side of Massachusetts avenue, where the tradesmen hold sway, the going is fairly good; but on the northern side, the domain of the Corporation, it is abominable. In the Yard, most of the board walks are now visible, but not through any human effort. And the contrast between the southern and northern shores of Massachusetts avenue does not favor the University as a caretaker.

In the absence of prompt redress on the part of nature, it is suggested that the University bestir itself. A squad of doughty men with shovels to alter the topography of the slush piles, and to dig little trenches so that certain demi-lakes may empty themselves into oblivion, could still accomplish wonders. Days ago, the need for such a squad was "crying"; it is still acute.

The anxious mother who once wrote to Dean Hurlbut to please see that her son wore overshoes regularly was far wiser in the lore of Cambridge than tradition paints her. After all; it is not entirely absurd to ask that the ruling powers pay some heed to the condition of our feet,--by minding what it is that we walk on, and by ceasing to play at watchful walting with Providence.