THE BELL OF THE CAMPUS

The rising wrath of the cloistered dwellers in the vicinity of Harvard hall will make them feel a regretful sympathy with Princeton men at the recent edict in regard to bells and clappers. Edward A. McMillan, orange counterpart of Mr. Apted, has recently raised the fine imposed on pilferers of the college clapper from thirty to fifty dollars. So rudely does one of Princeton's fine old traditions suffer a financial reverse. At Harvard twins and their overshadowing elder brothers.

While there is everywhere a feeling of sadness at the parting of old traditions that have existed for centuries only because they have existed for preceding centuries, there is on foot throughout the campi of the land a movement for the sublimation of the passion for the only tradition in regard to the college bell is that it be punctiliously oscillated every morning at seven o'clock for a period not less than much too long. A fine of thirty dollars would not be out of place for this offense; fifty is more in keeping with the estimates of the ten o'clock scholars resident in the Holden tradition. In accordance with this scheme, class rushes of a splendidly barbaric simplicity have been converted into tuge-of-war with their reminiscent aroma of Greek culture. At Harvard the case is somewhat more difficult, but the senior class after a year of intimate study of this problem may embody their findings in some appropriate class gift. A suggestion in this matter, pending the decision of the class, is a thick walled glass case for the belfry: though absolutely sound-proof this would enable such legend-loving officials of the University as are known to exist to satisfy themselves that the bell still tolls the hall of dawning day.