Owing to the unusually large number of letters that the Crimson has received in the past few weeks, it has been found desirable to engage the services of Malaleei U. Smugly '93 to councel anxious undergraduates from his vast fund of inescapable experience. All queries of general interest will be published (complete). All queries of no interest whatsoever will not even be read. The column will always agree with Crimson editorial policy and may even be consistent.

Letter number one.

Dear Uncle Smugly,

I am worried. It seems I can't concentrate. At least every time I look hard at a lecturer and try to absorb what he is saying, I go to sleep. The other day I got out of a nine o'clock at a quarter to two, and then only because the janitor tried to dust off my feet. And now with the first November Hours coming the twentieth of October, and with me asleep half the time, I'm worried. Things are so bad that I even go to sleep in tutoring school, and they haven't any janitor there. And I do so want to stay in college. Scared stiff, N. Cephalitis

My dear Mr. Cephalitis,

Your problem is a not uncommon one. I had somewhat the same trouble when I was in college myself. It is a matter of common knowledge that prolonged concentration on a small dull colored object, particularly when accompanied by a low murmuring sound, is a very effective method of hypnosis. In my day I used to combat the effects by thinking of something particularly ghastly, like boiled turnips. But now, with college food so good, you will have to think of something else. There is an ugly rumor, however, that a dish called Vienna "Lead" Roll is still being served. Try this. Try thinking about it, I mean.   Your Uncle Smugly