The news that the Columbia crews are to practice in secret is exceedingly mystifying; it causes one to suspect some unusual motive--unless indeed the Columbia oarsmen have decided to row frontward a la Chesapeake Bay or to adopt some other equally revolutionary stroke. It has been suggested that this is a result of the all-pervasive influence of Mr. Percy Haughton, who like most sorcerers accomplishes his greatest miracles in an atmosphere of secrecy. But a clue to an even more satisfactory reason is furnished by the news that London's riverside flappers had to be dispersed by the "bobbies" when the Oxford oarsmen made their first appearance at Putney. Their demand, it is true, was only for autographs, but even this small favor would have been rather an inconvenient one for an "eight".

Whether the flappers of New York are of the sea-going variety and get in the way of the Columbia shells is not officially known but the authorities have apparently decided to take no chances. Probably contributions for a "Hudson patrol" will soon be solicited, to keep visitors at a harmless distance. But the precedent of secret crew practice thus auspiciously inaugurated may help solve a most exasperating local problem. Hitherto, urchins frequenting the banks and bridges of the Charles have displayed their native skill by dropping assorted missiles upon the straining oarsmen passing below, often with deadly effect. If they could be solemnly impressed with the fact that all crew practice is secret, they might be persuaded to "have eyes but see not" and to reserve exhibitions of accurate hurling for the local diamonds.