A notice of a new supper club carries the additional information: "Your old friend Terry of the Dean's office is door-man. If he doesn't know your name, middle name and class to boot, the drinks will be on us."

The reference is to the man who used to carry messages from Prof. Hurlbut to such students at Harvard as were in the bad books of the administrative forces. I have not the least doubt that Terry would remember my name and class as well. It was his boast that he forgot the face of no one who ever matriculated at the university. The trouble is that Terry remembers far too much. He knows, I feel certain, my mark in French was A. and when I went on probation and why. In fact, I would not put it above his marvelous memory to retain the unimportant information that in social ethics I received an F. Much that I did in Harvard I have tried to live down, and when I want to go upon a party I hardly think it would be pleasant to be reminded at the very door of gayety that once I was far less clever than I profess to be at present. Heywood Broun   in the New York World.