If every student in the College should wear a paper cap colored with a certain hue to represent the state of the Union from which he comes, the lecture room of Comp. Lit. 12 for instance would resemble an overgrown pansy bed and the paths of the Yard would eclipse the most enthusiastic rainbow.

This colorful impossibility is founded on registration statistics for the College which shows that every one of the "United States" is represented at Cambridge by at least one ambitious pursuer of knowledge and in most cases by a sizable expedition of "chasseurs". Massachusetts of course leads the field with one thousand four hundred and sixty undergraduates enrolled, and the other eastern states follow after, New York with four hundred and sixty-four, Pennsylvania with one hundred and nine, Connecticut with seventy-five, Maine with forty-three. (For further information see the Register.)

The surprise comes when one sees in what quantities the Middle Western States send their native sons eastward to lose their "Hoo-is-yer" tendencies in a "Hawvaad" accent and a battered brown hat. Ohio with over a hundred enrolled almost ties Pennsylvania; Illinois is within one man of nearby Connecticut; Michigan, Wisconsin, Iowa, and Indiana range from thirteen to thirty. It is also enlightening to see that the state of California sends thirty-one students across the continent and that Colorado, now fattone the purse of the of the railroad with a delegation of seventeen. Only the southern states apparently are backward in entrusting their emissaries to the vicissitudes of a New England winter.

Apparently, if Harvard is a typical example, American colleges are rapidly becoming melting pots within "the melting pot" and their function has changed from local to national education. Or, if we return to our pansy bed, it has become a mass of varying color such as might be expected from a government package of experimental seed.