Just as one impulse from the vernal wood makes the Colonel's lady and her well known sparring partner sisters under their respective skins, so does a stroll along the banks of the Charles reveal things which one never thought possible in this dear Cambridge. On a hot day, such as was the rare fortune yesterday, the upper reaches of the limpid stream resembled the Lido and Bailey's Beach more than a dignified and usually deserted river. Young Cambridge and a liberal assortment of canines disported themselves in the intriguing and unanalyzed waters, making whoopee all around Stillman and transforming Lief Ericson's monument into an apparatus for achieving that dark, rich skin which one doesn't love to have touched but which eventually, it is hoped, will develop into tan,.

These sportive moments are among the things which make Cambridge bearable in summer. Hot and sultry weather may come--in fact it usually does--but as a reward one has the opportunity to view humanity in the raw on the banks of the Charles. Three years ago this week saw some of the hottest and most unpleasant weather ever known to man settled on a parched university. One lived on the river banks, along with hundreds of others; nocturnal wanderings were valuable as laboratory experiments in Biology. When the siege was over life went on as usual, with the added consolation that although Cambridge is not the Maine woods nor Lake Louise it does nevertheless have its moments. With days like yesterday those moments reach their height.