In these days of black coffee and five hour intensive review sessions, when the academic rules everywhere supreme, the student who finds in the examination room, with its accompanying stamp of feet and prowling proctors, a nervous hazard is experiencing no new sensations.

Half a century ago with mid-years yet in their infancy the owerwrought nerves of the seeker after knowledge, or three C's and a D, were irritated by the same annoyances which will trouble some 500 to 1,000 men today and every other day for the next week and a half. Especially keen was the resentment against the actions of proctors; so much so in fact, that it found expression in the columns of the CRIMSON of February 23, 1877.

The writer of the article, setting forth grievances which were to apply equally well to his successor 50 years later, and ending up on a note of sincere and righteous indignation, says:

"Certainly it is annoying to have proctors in squeaking boots walking up and down an examination-room. It is annoying, also, to have two proctors stand behind you and converse in tones so, exquisitely modulated that you catch just half their conversation. But, great as these annoyances are, there is one other in comparison with which they sink into insignificance. It has frequently happened that as soon as a number of men had finished their papers, the books were seized by some proctor, who after reading until he came to a passage that seemed to him ridiculous, would call a fellow-proctor to enjoy the laugh with him.

"Now, examination books are written for instructors: proctors have no right to read them, and these few who take the right and make sport over them insult every student in the examination room."