"Hi Jack! Why not wash it off?"

"This is your first year here, isn't it?"

"Yes, but what has that to do with your fine field of stubble?"

"Look here; would you light three cigarettes on one match? No, of course you wouldn't. Or plan a party of thirteen? I doubt it. Or change your crew trunks before a race? No, even if the doctor advised it. Well, it's the same way with shaving before an exam. You said the other day that you didn't hit English 28 very well; I'll bet a French franc to a Russian ruble you shaved that morning. Cut shaving, Bill; look at me: if I only had a little heavier growth and a less well-trained razor I'd be a Phi Beta."

And so another worshipper of this ancient and honorable custom is gained. Intellectual weaklings grow hirsute and become mental Sampsons! If anyone still doubts the effectiveness of this superstition and fetish worship, let him read Professor Tozzer's new book. Let him test it as other religions are often tested: by popularity, and by pragmatism. Professor Tozzer's interesting chapter shows that the whole college world practices it today and that its adherents are satisfied of its effectiveness.

After all, why not? Belief in a beetle god led the Egyptians to raise huge pyramids, the wonder of the world. Belief in his star of destiny led Napoleon to conquer Europe. Perhaps belief in a well tested fountain pen--psychologically soothing will lead the D-man to the broad beckoning plain of C. Try anything once.

The appeal is irresistible. The world is still young and its men are still children. As long as they remain childish they will believe what children believe and the children of these children will cease shaving until "after exams."