Troubles never come singly. In the midst of the preparation for midyears, there arrives a sad blow in the form of the term bill;--the Bursar has a decided advantage over the other citizens around the Square; his bills are paid on time. But even his path is not all strewn with roses. As the last day for payment of the term bill dawns, his quarters are mobbed by the wealthy; from sunrise to sunset they stand in line cursing their luck, not so much because their purses are to be lightened, but because they must stand up for an hour before it happens. The Bursar does not enjoy the day, and the rest of the world certainly does not.

For some unaccountable reason this performance has taken place regularly every time a bill was due. Students of psychology should sit up and take notice. Why has a Harvard undergraduate, upon receiving his term bill, always forgotten about paying it till the last day, then rushed over to the Bursar's office--check book in hand--to wait in line for an hour,--why has he done this when resort to his intelligence would have informed him that a check mailed promptly at a convenient post box was quite as good as one handed in personally at the last minute. It is, however, too late to study the problem first hand. The announcement today from the Office that all bills are to be paid only at the Harvard Trust Company, the accompanying request that they be paid by a check which can be mailed, and the suggestion that they be paid early ought to do away with a long standing joke.