TO EDITORS OF THE "CRIMSON."

HAVING read in one of the daily papers that the Soldene Opera Bouffe Company intend making their appearance shortly, for the purpose of delighting the youth of Cambridge and Boston, I thought I would take it upon myself to bestow on all those young gentlemen who propose to deliver up their filthy lucre as a votive offering to Terpsichore, and yield themselves to the pleasing diversions of the aforesaid company, the following words of advice.

When the veil is drawn for the last time, and the sound of the harp, sackbut, and psaltery has ceased, tarry not, but hie ye quickly to your domiciles, lest after too great indulgence ye become unable to walk upright, and being unsteady in both extremities, ye act in a riotous and unbecoming manner and excite the wrath of the custodians of the highways, who will quickly deliver ye to the judge, and the judge will deliver ye to the officer, and ye be cast into prison. Verily, I say unto you, ye shall by no means come out thence till ye have paid the uttermost farthing.

Ever since that affair of three months ago took place, in which a couple of students and several police figured largely, I have been acting the part of a private detective, so to speak, and have endeavored, by probing the matter to the bottom, to find out the true cause thereof. After careful research, aided by a little personal experience with the "limbs of the law," I have come to the following conclusion:-

That the guardians of the peace of Cambridge are all of a very sensitive nature and have much more tender feelings than ordinary mortals. They were, therefore, deeply wounded, and considered it as reflecting on themselves, when some students, always full of levity, and totally given over to the ways of the Evil One, while returning from the opera of Genevive de Brabant, sang in their hearing the following lines:-

We're public guardians, bold, yet wary,

And of ourselves we take good care!

To risk our precious lives we're chary;

When danger looms, we're never there!

But when we meet a helpless woman,

Or little boys that do no harm,

We run 'em in, we run 'em in,

We show them we are bold gend'armes!

Smarting under this insult to their dignity, with a few sweet words of endearment, they proceeded to quench this ebullition of undergraduate spirits, with results that are known to every one. Lest there should be another occurrence of like nature with perhaps even worse results, I have given the above advice with the hope that it may be acted upon.

FROM ONE WHO HAS BEEN "RUN IN."