Not very long ago, it was in our power to crush them with a rod of iron, but we forbore in foolish charity and a mistaken belief that, after all, they were men like ourselves. Nothing human-even from New Haven-was alien to us, we said. Overlooking clear signs that the Yalies were indeed what our fathers said they were, we worked hard at trying to understand them. We met them. We talked with them. Compulsive do-gooders among us even read the Yalie Daily. Then came the election and the realization that it was no use.

No one was really surprised when Yale went Republican, but we all were saddened. I-told-you-so extremists drew analogies to the Congo, and there were sneers about giving top hats to Hottentots, but most of us were glad that we had given the Yalies their chance. It was the manly, the Harvard thing to do.