It seems to Heywood Broun of the Class of 1910 that when Harvard beats Yale, that's news. So this week his trenchant page in the Nation is one long, but strangely two-headed complaint of the intense rivalry between the universities. The more vociferous head roars a regular Harvard cheer white its meek twin now and then barks faintly that this should not be so, and becomes full-throated only in the crescendo of a mutual anti-Princeton feeling intimated just above the signature.

One might have been tempted to question his initial premise of Harvard-Yale rivalry two years ago or one but not in December 1928, with the recollection of a glorious afternoon in the Bowl still extremely new. Dartmouth is in town and now and then gets scalped and the joy of the University still does not overstep too far the margins set by indifference. But fifty years of opposition more than half of them alternately as host and as guest, have set a unique seal on Harvard's meetings with Yale.

Nevertheless one doubts the absolute permanence of the seal. The glorious afternoon is after all only a memory College spirit takes its bumps periodically; and underneath this periodicity there is clearly a proportion to that scorned symbol of Rotarianism, Success. The appeals of an infuriated group of cheer-leaders waver feebly when the last white line is ninety yards away. There is no entity less abstract in its origins and manifestations than college spirit, and why it should be symbolized and paraded as a Platonic soul-affair, or a causeless hatred in perpetuam, is a mystery.