Many customs that formed prominent features in the old-time student life of Harvard have gradually been dropped and forgotten, and not a few of them merited the disuse into which they have fallen. One custom, however, which seems in a fair way to become extinct is worthy a better fate. It is extremely strange that our undergraduates should have abandoned so enjoyable a custom as that of singing in the yard. Old graduates express the utmost surprise when told that student singing is very seldom heard in the yard, and recall with pleasure their own college days, when any chance gathering of undergraduates thought it no unpleasant way to pass an evening by joining in the jolly, rattling choruses which college men alone can sing. Nowadays all this is changed. Night after night the silence of the yard is unbroken, save by the whistling of some chance passer. The Glee Club saves its energies for more dignified concerts. The great secret societies no longer "sing through the yard." Even within the last four years, student song has entered upon a marked decline. It was no uncommon thing in the spring of '83 to hear a merry chorus from some small knot of men lying lazily on the grass, nor was it thought a source of wonder if the Glee Club gathered on the steps of Holworthy or Matthews, and gave an hour to the entertainment of the college, - an act of kindness which met with all due appreciation, as was well shown by the cries of "more," "more," with which all such efforts were greeted. Why not, then, have a "revival" at Harvard? No more favorable time can be found than the coming weeks. Let to-night bring with it vox in tenebris.