BE PREPARED

While the government, the brotherhoods, and the railroad presidents fill the front pages of the daily papers with long discussions as to why the railroad strike is impossible, how it will be won, or how thwarted, the general public is beginning to wonder how it will travel next month. The problem is particularly acute among Harvard undergraduates because of a certain date that the large majority of them have made for the fifth of November. The strike is to start, if it ever does, on the first of the month; the unions predict victory by the tenth; the railroads are confident that the men will be back at work within a week. Neither alternative, unfortunately, would help matters much for those of us who are planning to be in Princeton two weeks from Saturday. Such being the case, we take leave to suggest that every man look about now for a means of transportation.

At the very outset, we can foresee the advantage that will be had by those taking some form of military training. The Freshman who elected equitation to satisfy his physical training requirements will find himself, provided he is already on good terms with his horse, galloping down the Post road at a rate that will make the old hero of Put's Hill squirm under his modest tombstone in Greenwich.

The large majority of us, however, will resort to the more familiar means of the motor car. Many a flivver that has never (under the guidance of its present owner, at least) rattled on any highway beyond walking distance of Cambridge, will find itself drawn into the stream of vehicles headed westward on the fourth of November. Some of us will reserve our favorite Boston taxi, and auction off cubic feet of space in it to the highest bidder as long as there is space left. Others have already ordered our town cars to be boxed up and shipped from Chicago, Philadelphia or New York before the freight trains stop running. . . . But we'll be there, one and all--whether by ox-cart or dirigible, by camel or the Boston Elevated. And when the sun rises in New Jersey on November fifth, it will be shaded by the dust of a caravan from out of the east, more brilliant than any Marco Polo ever encountered on his hike to Cathay.