An atmosphere of excitement and expectation swirled over the Stadium last Saturday as the crimson-jerseyed team prepared to clash with the sons of Annapolis. Harvard fans keyed to a high pitch of enthusiasm cheered wildly as the first tackle was made, while up in the press box, typewriters clicked busily. It was a contest between two closely matched teams and many hopes, reputations and even dollars rested on the uncertain outcome. But seated next to our correspondent was a blase young thing, sweetly dressed in red, wearing a fetching red hat, with a red feather protruding from the back of it at an even more fetching angle. However, despite her apparent Cantabridgian sympathies, her eye was not on the game, as she looked curiously from side to side. Her attention was not brought back to the field until a Harvard pass was intercepted, when groans of tortured souls rose all around her. Looking back at the game her face lit up with momentary pleasure as she squealed, "Oh goody it's Yale's Ball."