The Yard dormitory rule requiring chaperons to keep an eye on potentially amorous Freshmen is a needless irritant. At best, the chaperon system acts as a front to comfort parents worried about the intoxicating effect of almost unlimited freedom on their sons. At worst, it simply lingers as an obsolete carry, over from the old arrangement that held the bumptious Freshman in his "proper" place. Surely any such prep-schoolish requirement--that two "disinterested observers" oversee the activities of one couple--should follow having and beanies into oblivion.

Chaperoning is not enforceable; the only actual checkups are made by zealous or the Yard police, who are eager to climb the dizzy heights of Matthews or Thayer on what may well be a fool's errand, or to peer in rooms suspiciously at embarrassed residents and their lady friends. If couples want to evade the law, there is little to stop them. "Chaperons" may suggest a stern body of older men who sit stiffly on the edge of their chairs and rivet their eyes on guilty pairs, but they are actually no more than friends from across the hall who can be privately instructed to gaze out the window.

During the war years, Freshmen were, for the most part, lumped with upperclassmen in the Houses, and seemed to manage their social affairs under liberal House rules with no evidence of moral deterioration. They were subject to the peculiarly disruptive influences of war-time at an average age even younger than that of the present Yardling crop. If age and experience are any criteria, '51 is at least as qualified for independence as "duration" Freshmen.

Possibly the University feels that Yard dwellers are too young to be put on their own in the great social game. The chaperon system may be just a fatherly device to protect inexperienced youths from the clutches of unscrupulous females. If that is the case, it seems strange indeed that House residents should be so completely cast adrift on the seas of passion, sustained only by sign-in registers and curfews.