The success of the Harvard Glee Club's annual appearance here a few days ago serves once more to remind us that here is a novel experiment in music. Several years ago, when Dr. Archibald T. Davison took charge, college glee clubs were as negligible as could well be imagined. The literature available to them included "The Owl and Pussy Cat" and "The Bullfrog on the Bank," with "Kentucky Babe" thrown in for the classical taste, and it included very little else. In fact, most people regarded college glee clubs as in the same category as measles epidemics and grasshopper plagues--as afflictions sent by God, that is--and they resigned themselves to the inevitable without trying to do anything about it. But Dr. Davison did something about it. He announced that the day of the sophomoric ditties was at an end, and that henceforward the club would sing real music. He introduced it to the recondite mysteries of Handel, Palestrina and Bach. And, amazing as it seems, he was immediately successful. The club took on new life, and the concerts became not only dull things for loyal Harvard alumni to attend but musically important as well. Moreover, other glee clubs began to follow suit, until the old order seems in a fair way to a quiet demise. Glancing through the program, one notes one or two numbers that were composed especially for the club. It seems not too much to hope, therefore, that Dr. Davison's renaissance of serious music may lead to new compositions as well, to a new American literature for chorus. If it brings this about, it has indeed done much. New York World.