A BEAR MARKET AT BEST

Since Harvard is the main hunting ground for Boston debutante racketeers, an article appearing in the current number of The North American Review has a definite bearing on some phases of undergraduate life. "What a travesty it all is" exclaims Alida K. L. Milliken, indignant champion of the simpler life, referring to the modern social swirl and "its youth, the victims of exploiters who commercialize it." According to this observer, the stag line is forced to the demon rum to sustain the early morning hours, while no spark of humanity lightens the chatter of female upon female, the monotony of drink upon drink. The debutante, overshadowed by the impersonal magnitude of her hospitality, loses the spontaneity that might have kept the stage from the bottle and thus broken the vicious circle.

Impeccable and dignified, some Harvard undergraduates have spent many serious hours across the Charles, pleasantly conscious of the proprieties, enjoying the liquid narcotic of polite conversation. Many have sacrificed their entire college education to this absorbing pursuit. Yet in spite of gracious hours spent under Back Bay auspices, this exposure of the debutante business might well be considered pertinent in University circles. It seems rather sad that such vast organization should be required before the shrinking bud can be successfully plucked. It seems almost tragic that the personal element should be lost in the giant network of the matrimonial market. If the present racket should develop consistently, obviously the next step is to establish a black-board and ticker tape at the Somerset in direct communication with a subsidiary machine at University Hall.