New Haven was a quiet city last night, but a city obviously ready to burst at the seams momentarily, as thousands of Crimson adherents poured into the gothic fortress that is Eli Yale. Minions of the law, everywhere in evidence, had little trouble, but spent their long hours moving efficiently through the streets. Last night the Crimson carried off most of the honors to be had in New Haven. Here for the game and excited about it, the visitors out-cheered, out-sang, and out-shouted their hosts throughout the clear, cold evening hours.

A good guess would be that should Yale triumph in today's game, this relatively unimpressive New England town will break apart before the sun sets in the west.

But in the earlier, soberer parts of the evening, the Eli spirit that might ensure such a win seemed notably absent. The game of games, in fact, seemed only to be regarded by the Blue as an excuse for a large-scale blowout. Nobody resident here appeared to be either worried or excited about the meeting in the Bowl.

No one, though he were equipped with the heels of Mercury and the capacity of Bacchus, could have attended all the pre-game parties. These fests were in all the rooms, ornamented by a more glamorous set of women than say ever seen this fall on the banks of the Charles.

"Wintergreen for President"

Early in the evening a crimson-clad baud flooded a segment of New Haven with flyers emblazoned with President Conant's picture and advocating "Bryant Wintergreen for President." Few people could guess immediately whether this prauk originated in Cambridge or at Yale, so the total offset was not startling.

Groups of Harvard students roamed the streets of New Haven until all hours singing loudly, and occasionally off key and with the wrong words, all the Harvard songs they know. It was a cold night, and the constabulary made no real short to keep the peace.

With the first streaks of morning light, a second wave of emigrants started from Cambridge to make the exodus complete.