Of the necessity, value, and proper behavior of proctors there is no one better qualified to speak than the student who has just taken an examination, and done rather poorly. Those thoughtful gentlemen who wander about the fringes of the multitude, banding out extra paper and maintaining an attitude of strict neutrality, mean nothing to the student whose eager hand can hardly wait to disclose a mind packed with information. It is only to the unfortunate who sees the lower gulfs yawning before him, and averts his eye in dismay, that external matters are of concern.

What then can be said of a room-full of such students, when they see before them a proctor glancing through the first few bluebooks which have been handed in, and chortling in his glee? Around him gather his friends, and together they form a merry party over those first few tragic failures, not thinking what their mirth may mean to their wards who have not yet given up the fight. If to the proctor the downfall of a student who is not clear on the place of residence of the Hittites may be as inconsequential, and far funnier, than the death of the Jabberwock, to the motionless figures bent over the examination tables the matter appears in a more sinister light. Such joviality seems hideous in its forebodings.

Some diversion is undoubtedly due the proctors, to whom an examination is neither a comedy nor a tragedy, but only a bore; yet some more charitable form of recreation might be their choice. If scholastic dignity should forbid the playing of cards, chess, checkers, or any of the lighter diversions of mankind, and there is nothing for it but to read the bluebooks as they are handed in, let them read in silence; let open mirth be restrained until the last victim has been led from the scene, and then let the rafters resound with Jovian laughter over the mistakes of mortals.