NEVER SAY DIE

A gracious tribute is paid in the new bronze tablet erected at Princeton to the honor of those who have served their alma mater by long hours of vigil on the side line benches. The words, "In appreciation of our Princeton football scrubs--past, present, and future" graven on the walls of the field house near the dressing room of the scrubs justly recognizes the men who day by day have given their time and taken the knocks to put the winning polish on the first eleven. Where the roaring plaudits of loyal backers comes to university athletics, gratitude is not unfitting to the scrubs whose fate has been to shimmer as shadows on the dim edge of the orange spotlight.

The acknowledgement made to the Princeton seconds is simple and direct. A stretch of the imagination, and monuments suring up to unsuccessful second assistant managers and disappointed candidates for the Glee Club. That sort of "I'll be a sister to you" encouragement helps a lot when the world just will not seem to go 'round, and a touch of sympathy after a while gets to feel like the thump of congratulation. In the end, it may be well to leave the public recognition of good losers to those who first discovered it, and to apply the funds saved in this way to commemorate the man who first engaged in college athletics because he liked to play games.