Yale University, much to its probable discomfiture, has hatched another crop of mosquitoes to edit again the Harkness Hoot. These young posts hover over Yale's precious architecture, thumb their noses at its partially Gothic elegance, refuse to be in any way cowed by the Harkness millions, and take an unholy delight in the inconsistencies they see taking shape around them--particularly in the Gothic exterior of Pierson-Davenport College and its Georgian inner court. They helpfully offer as their own proposed Yale building a drawing of a very prettily designed small church of American colonial architecture topped with a large, ornate Gothic tower, as if the Woolworth Building had ambled down Broadway and climbed up on the top of St. Paul's Chapel. It is possible that the Yale powers-that-be will find these criticisms merely annoying. An article in the magazine, however, Sober Advice to Freshmen, by one of the editors, Richard S. Childs, should, if they retain any powers of self-criticism, fill them with shame. Mr. Childs has drawn for them a picture of Yale as he sees it, the place where gentlemen are manufactured and scholars are laughed at, a shallow, self-seeking, trivial, insincere playground for young bond salesmen to make contacts in before they take up the serious business of life. This may or may not be a just picture. But that a thoughtful young man, as Mr. Childs reveals himself to be, one who is already well on the way to education and who possesses an enviable command of the English language, should see the university in this light shows that something is wrong with Yale which House Plans will not remedy. This is not the buzz of an undergraduate mosquito; it is a serious indictment of one of the leading American universities. It should be taken seriously. The Nation.