MARE NOSTRUM

It is generally agreed that this has been a bad season for those Cambridge sportsmen whose favorite pastime is lying on the boathouse dock under the benefit and browning influence of the sun; it has been a cool and cloudy May. With the approach of examinations, however, Sol makes a belated appearance, and sculling is open once more for those who believe in a clear head as the best preparation for a mental ordeal; and once more the tannery on the Charles is doing a good business in idleness and early sunburns.

There have been some, more captious than loyal, who have wished that the Cambridge river more resembled the ideal conception of the Isis and the Cam a lazy, rural stream, from whose lush banks only the flight of rooks above a grey-thatched cottage disturbs the quiet beauty of the English countryside. It must be admitted that trip in a wherry or a single, reveals a scene dissimilar to this. "The boatsman is seldom out of sight, during the lower half, of his journey, of apartment houses and the stadium: and lest the forget that he is still in urban surroundings he is reminded of the fact at least once by a small boy who wants to be taken for a ride; thus demonstrating the eternal optimism of youth, since it is doubtful if since the founding of the college such a request has been granted.

The sculler on the Charles defies an English river, fit for nothing but the languid progress of punts, to show such interest and variety within a few short miles. He has no patience with those who would reduce the banks of the stream to the insipid beauty of a city park. It is a dirty stream, to alien eyes an unattractive stream, but it is peculiarly his own.