Those of us who take our meals at Memorial and are obliged to pass in and out of the hall three times each day realize the ubiquity of clothes solicitors more forcibly perhaps than the rest of the community. On passing through the '87 gate towards the Hall, or even walking quietly down Cambridge street, one is accosted by a small regiment of eager solicitors for clothes. We must discard our old clothes, of course, and if we cannot arrange to save them for the philanthropic societies, we are led to resort to these parties from whom we can expect a slight return. But it is quite impossible to sell the same waistcoat to four different people, as we are led to believe by their persistency. The ground in front of Memorial seems to have been mutually agreed upon as the choicest field of competition, and so the innocent student must run the gauntlet, to enter or leave the Hall, wondering whether the clothes on his back really do belong to him, while numerous agents hop around from one spot to another to comply with police regulations which say they cannot remain in one place more than five minutes. In other words, these clothes dealers are becoming common nuisances, and the sooner they become aware of this and act accordingly the better for all concerned.