Cambridge of late has been a place of periods, influences and trends. The Reading Period is a subject for pleasant reminiscence, the Mid-Years period one of hateful retrospection. The period of relaxation, handsome while it lasted, has gone the way of all good holidays, fast. With the exception of a few helot Seniors still enjoying French leave in the sunshine of the Bermudas or the vintage spots of the Old Dominion, the College has once more assembled. The period of recuperation has set in and it is a sad, sad business. The mail man brings his daily cargo of bills and grade cards, and there is no health in us.

All in all this would be a rather lugubrious picture, a poser in justifying the ways of God to man, if it were not for the joy and gladness which it must bring to all the good people of Boston and Cambridge. Tradesmen of the Square breathe a sigh of relief and replace the Kollege Kut Klothes in their window with unmatched suits and complements of a more sober hue. The period of depression is over. The college boys are back, and better to have long-running bills than no business at all.

In Boston the cheers are faint but heartfelt. The dances may begin again. Once more Boston hostesses may have that rare privilege of entertaining the Cambridge hedonists, that "charming bevy of wastrels", who will regale their daughters with drinking exploits, and spill food on their carpets. The Lowella Cabot's are in for another bad time and may their blood be on their own heads. Nearly everyone will be happy Half the College will attend and the other half will no more be aware of these delightful functions than the other half would think of studying without a "glass and bottle at hand." Seniors may be found in Widener doing something between the hours of seven and eleven. In the later hours they may possibly be uncovered in their rooms sitting up with sick theses.