Trickling back like a slow-running, twinkling stream, come post-exam stories that fill the student's cup brimming full once again. One senior of no inconsiderable reputation, in particular, had sipped of the dregs of examination life and found them bitter. He determined to seek out the bright lights of a large metropolis to the south, second only to the Hub itself.

Music arose with its vuluptuous swell,

Soft lights gleamed upon a waxwood floor,

A beautiful lady lent enchantment to the night,

Champagne bubbled full of joy and mirth.

* * * * * *

But curfew tolled the knell of parting night

When Valentine at three A.M. decrees

"Return to home must those who live at case",

Leaving at length his love, our Harvard Lochinvar wandered deeply pensive, in media nocte, along the stem of Madison Avenue. But public transporation failing, he felt the need, before he reached his house, of swerving down a dark and dangerous alley.

Stretching his foot out where he could not see

He suddenly stepped out upon eternity.

* * * * * *

A grimy face peered downward from above,

A voice rasped out, "Are you alive or dead?"

As our cold hero, grasping at his head,

Looked at the sun and wished that he had had

The strength and courage straightway back to wend his way

To comfortable house and homely bed.