THE WIND OF SPRINGTIME

For the last month little scented breezes have some skipping over the Charles from the rapidly-growing-greener baseball diamond across the Charles. Skippity-skip they have passed across Mt. Auburn Street, have dared the traffic of Massachusetts Avenue and have penetrated into the gloomiest depths of Widener Library's dusty stacks. And during the past week one board walk after another has melted away from the yard before the warm Spring sun.

Spring once penetrated, too, very slowly indeed perhaps into University Hall, and so many deans began to yawn that it was decided that something had to be done. And that something was the Spring Recess. And so now, it is that late in every April there is a joyful exodus from Cambridge of carefree underclassmen and even a few very wicked, on very brilliant, on very devilclay-care seniors.

This year the exodus may be unusually glad, for students may use their vacation to celebrate Easter as well as Patriot's Day. How seldom it is that indifferent Cantabridgians can spare time for the annual egg-rolling on the White House lawn. Whether pent-up youth spends his father's substance on gilded night clubs or goes North "where hill is heaped on hill, the CRIMSON wishes him the top of the season--nor does it fail to drop a tear for the divisional-ridden senior sophister.