PAGE LEWIS CARROLL!

Once upon a time in the early period of the stone age, there were two men who were about to run a race, with a beautiful leopard-skin-clothed girl as prize for the winner, and death,--instant and unwavering,--for the loser. As the language in those days was not quite as it is now, the man to the right was called X; and the man to the left was Y. The race began with Y slightly ahead but with X pounding steadily onward. At the half mile mark, he passed, retained his lead until the end, won the girl, whom, since she became Mrs. X, should be called X, and watched with a superior air, the decapitation of poor Y. Mr. and Mrs X, or X and X' as you will, lived happily ever after.

That is the earliest historical background for all the stories and canter about X. You meet the tale at every step. "X runs a race with Y. At the half mile mark X passes Y running at 7.5 miles an hour. By how much did X win?" It is always the same; and always the happy ending,--X wins, and Y loses. Occasionally Mrs X (X') is called upon for assistance, but she invariably backs her husband to the discomfiture of Y. Even Z somehow seems to be able to put a deal across while Y is left struggling with decimal points.

In this age of topsy-turvyism, and free speech, love, art, music ad infinitum, why does not some sedate mathematics teacher, in an effort to prolong youth and a gleaming eye,--write a new Algebra book? In it he should cast aside all the pomps and vanities of the wicked world, the lusts of the flesh--as well as precedent and have Y win the race, make the money, get the largest part of the apple and marry Mrs. X. He (Y) deserves it after all these centuries.