Harvard is a University where from generation to generation the student is allowed to, and does, express his individuality. One inexplicable discrepancy that obtains is the number of hours applied to textbooks variously reported.

There are fabulous tales of football heroes who, after winning major clashes through spectacular and epoch making work, refused to leave their books even to attend dances with girls who travelled all the way from Northampton or Poughkeepsic for the occasion. A certain non-resident student is reported to have worn out seven pairs or pants in his Senior year on Widener's slick seats. On the other hand tradition speaks of other graduates who, in four years attendance at Harvard College spent a total of not more than fifteen of the many months in Cambridge.

The younger generation, it would seem, has no intention of breaking records in the matter of being graduated with the least possible amount of studying, even though it evinces a certain arch pride in pointing out that it, too, occasionally depends on bluff to answer Mr. Cram's essay questions. Recently a Yardling was heard to remark with a lifted eyebrow and a smug smile to an apparently shocked companion: 'You know, I didn't crack a book all day yesterday."