On the left bank of the Charles, or, more exactly, in Phillips Brooks House last night, the French club fought a tossup battle over Brooklyn and Beacon Street accents in a game effort to recapture "I'esprit gaulois" on no stronger fuel than ice water. (It was called punch.)

Such traditional French divertissements as musical chairs and something called "le general a dit," (rough public school translation: Simon says), provided a strong existensialist atmosphere.

An extremist in the back of the room occasionally muttered "Vive de Gaulle" to the doubtful gratification of these within hearing distance.

Audible Whispers

A charming French couple, Nissol Aladjem and Hazel Brill, (Smith '50) came off with the grand prix of the evening, a bottle of real champagne and a bottle of real French ("Chanel Five") perfume, according to the anglicized legend on the label.

Symptomatic of current French political developments was the interruption of a charming ballet number by Mare Alexandre, Jean Cotillon, and Linda Cabot '51, with a Russian kazatzki by one of the disguised males of the trio.