Uncs., Occs., Specs., Ad Libs!--not to mention S L.As, Sp. Eds., section men, and all others who battle the high Cs of a Cantabrigian education--oyez! One speaks!

"Heaven," as we know, "lies about us in our infancy". But the very "gates of Heaven" themselves, it now appears, enfold those who, by superior dullness and strange conceits, have attained the blissful state of a second childhood. Nav, more! This "Janus Coeli", these futuristic portals with their synthetic inginitudes will receive not merely the humble inebriate but his wives and child--if he wish--as well. The millenium of Shadwellism is upon us. Waes Hael! Gadzooks!

Too long has the Undergraduate wandered and Wondered--too long has the daily fog of editorial verbiage enveloped him as he trod the unblossoming paths of scholastic virtue. There has been need of a light for his feet--a cuiding beacon of hope towards which he might struggle across the orange pops the blocked his way. And at last it has come dight in sunset livery of scarlet and gold, shedding its mellow rays alike upon the barren walks of the Yard and the Dingy gutters of Plympton street. And the undergraduate rejoices and is content.

But as there are gods many, so are there promises many. Beware, O ye Uncs., Occs., Specs, and Ad Libs., how ye seek after "wizards that peep and that mutter." Runs the proverb, "Facile est descensu--" and the makers of the Tower of Babel could not reverse it. Brilliant as the new light may be, make sure that it is not a will o the wisp whose lustre increases with the approach of death.

But one more allusion to the illusion, and we have done. As the moth must have its yellow flame, so must Harvard have its yellow peril; yet when the tempting colors have been smudged by rains, and the screaming message out-screamed by the allurements of the Tiddledewinks team, then will we listen one again, indulgently smiling, to echoes of hollow laughter along Mount Auburn street, reverberated from the recesses of an empty stein!