Although white shoes in a country club may symbolize the Princeton man to Harvard undergraduates, to the sons of old Nassau Princeton means perhaps more than anything else a jumble of queer and extraneous traditions. Bell clappers, cannon, haircuts, and "dinks" all are words whose significance makes the nostalgic Tiger grad's heart warm, and causes him to chuckle and slap his thigh at the thought of his gay college years.

Many of these traditions died with the war, but Tiger-town still has its share of zany doings. Most of them are annual events dealing with the freshman class, which in Princeton is about as popular with the rest of the University as an untrained puppy at a bridge party. The "frosh" are alternately persecuted and pampered until the class has become a close-knit, self-reliant, if a little obnoxious, unit.

Perhaps the best-known of these traditions is the annual bell-clapper escapade. Every fall as early as possible the freshman class is allowed to steal the clapper of the hell in Nassau Hall's tower in order to prevent it from tolling the hours of classes. If there is no bell, then there are no classes.

As it is a great honor to be among the group that steals the bell, competition is hard between various bunches of freshmen to see who can carry off the prize first. The University doesn't mind the theft once a year, although the proctors and campus cops keep a sharp eye out and apprehend anyone they can who acts even faintly suspicious near the tower. To elude the watchful constabulary and get the clapper is every Tiger cub's dream.

So great is the enthusiasm for the theft that many classes have been known to foster several separate and independent groups who have not only stolen the first clapper, but its replacements.

Dean of the College Francis R. B. Godolphin frowns on multiple thefts, however, and after the clapper has disappeared once, he brings disciplinary action. "The clappers are too expensive to replace," Godolphin says, "and although they are allowed to keep the first one if they aren't caught, from then on the freshmen can't do any more legal stealing."

Tool Collector

Godolphin has in his office, (besides a collection of rare knives and swords, which he denies using on the culprits) a wastebasket full of captured tools. This collection of implements taken by cops and proctors from unsuccessful freshman thieves includes one poker, two rusty hollow iron pipes, one hammer, one screwdriver, pliers, one stillson wrench, one car tire wrench, and one unidentifiable tool. He says that this basketful is only part of his original set of tools, many of which have been picked up later by their owners.

This year the bellclapper escapade gained national notoriety when the members of the Denver Harvard Club briefed the Denver members of the class of 1955 in the best and most efficient way of pilfering the clapper. Apparently the Colorado alumni were anxious to renew their undergraduate days by hanging the clapper in their own clubhouse if their sons were successful in stealing it.

Pictured at right is the tug-of-war in the sophomore, freshman canespree held every fall. This is the feature attraction in an afternoon of hoopla and capering which includes track races and field events. The competition is always between members of the sophomore and freshman classes, and is part of the fall sophomore "hazing" of the new frosh. In this picture, taken last year, the freshmen are in the process of winning the tug-of-war, and beginning a two-year reign over their opposition, continuing this year as sophomores.

Actually this year the clapper was stolen early, too early for an enterprising group of freshmen who made the dangerous ascent to the belfry only to find it gone. Not really knowing what the quarry looked like, they took the most mobile 'thing left--the mechanism of the clock. Without clapper, works or hands the Nassau Hall tower could neither strike the hour nor even point the time. This was not the first time however, that something other than the clapper had been tampered with. Back in the nineties freshmen upturned the bell, poured boiling water in it, and let it freeze, cracking the bell, and thus stopping the ringing for the year.

Princeton's famous cannon on the green behind Nassau Hall is another focus point for annual Tiger traditions. It is here every spring that the senior class holds its "horsing" class day exercises. In this ceremony all seniors gather in a group and while smoking clay pipes, make fun of the deans. At one time or another the senior representatives have started off around Nassau Hall with the deans on piggy back, but come round the other corner riding their masters.

Goldolphin has been known to ride seniors around Nassau Hall in a rickshaw, and his famous grin prompted a song rhyming "grin" and "sin" with the sentiment that it was from the latter that he got his income. At the end of the ceremonies, all the seniors break their pipes on the cannon. The sundial is another place reserved for seniors, with steps on which only members of the graduating class can sit.

Mystery of the Cannon

This cannon, stuck muzzle first into the ground, is traditionally painted with the numerals of the graduating class. Last year a giant orange "51" was mysteriously changed to an equally giant "'54" by the then-freshman class. Just as mysteriously the following night it was changed to a "'24," which happens by some coincidence to be the Princeton class of several important University officials, including Godolphin. The culprit has not yet been found.