The February issue of THE MAGAZINE came limping along

much after the manner of a prodigal. Hence March comes close upon its heels, not like a lion, or even a lamb — but more perhaps in the similitude of a fatted calf.

On the hither borderland of February, instead of in the period of spring puddles, the Class Secretaries gathered for their annual meeting. The lure of much still-untrodden snow, plus that of an invitation to a roast pig supper at the Moose Mountain cabin of the Outing Club, detained more than, a usual number beyond the appointed homing time of Saturday noon. Doubtless the experience satisfied most of those who remained that, despite the impediments of cold and storm, Hanover is well worth a visit in winter time, — whether or not the Secretaries are in session.

Of the matters discussed by the assembled shepherds of the alumni, probably none is of wider interest than the proposal for shortening the Commencement era by a day. The idea is a sensible one. The existing scheme of Commencement goes back to a pre-golf period when folk worked on Saturday just as on other days, or perhaps a little harder, so as to tie a neat knot in the end of the week, thriftily completed. They were willing to go away on Monday, probably on the general assumption that, with work as with other things, a poor beginning is to be tolerated beyond a frazzled ending.

In days agone, furthermore, alumni were less a feature of Commencement than they are now. The students set store by the occasion much as they do now by Carnival and Junior Prom. In the light of these dazzling events, Commencement seems now a rather pallid party. It is now proposed to conclude it with a ball on Tuesday night instead of Wednesday. But why the ball?

It is very hard for Dartmouth to reconcile itself to a parting with Professor Edwin J. Bartlett. To accept his resignation with proper expressions of appreciation for a long service, faithfully rendered, was quite all right. No man ever better deserved to taste the sweets of retirement than does Professor Bartlett. But when it comes to the actual fact of losing his direct, forceful and keenly intelligent personality from the official deliberations of the College; when it comes to losing the virile classroom and departmental leadership that has made the Department of Chemistry in Dartmouth, year in and year out, a model of consistent productivity, polite bowings and scrapings fail to cover the situation. "Dynamic" is probably a poor word to use about a chemist. But it excellently characterizes Professor Bartlett. Withdrawal of so much dynamic quality as he possesses inevitably implies loss to the College,—at all obvious points, and at many others, subtler in their fine relationship to Dartmouth thought and tradition, but infinitely important because intangible.

Joseph deCamp is one of a small handful of great portrait painters. Dartmouth College is the proud possessor of four of his canvasses and is about to add the fifth in the portrait of Trustee John King Lord, but recently completed and now on exhibition at the great exhibition in Philadelphia. THE MAGAZINE is privileged to offer a reproduction of the painting as its frontispiece this month. The translation from painting to photograph and from photograph to halftone plate has generalized the values and blurred the finer modellings. Nevertheless, through all its changes, the portrait maintains its vigorous affirmation of character sympathetically understood and unfalteringly rendered.

Before Commencement the portrait will come into possession of the College and will be hung in the Administration Building. The initiative that made the work possible comes, as it might be expected, from Trustee Lewis Parkhurst. How much more than initiative he has contributed will be divulged in due course.

The old woman who lived in the shoe will now pass off stage in favor of that still more profoundly perplexed matron, Alma Mater Dartmouth. As of March 1. 1920, 600 prospective freshmen had applied for dormitory rooms for fall occupancy. The relentless law of averages says this means 2400 applications before first chapel bell in September. Let the law relent a little, there is still no escaping the conclusion that close to 2000 youngsters have set their hearts on membership in the Clss of 1924, Dartmouth.

Of course they cannot be cared for. Already warning notices are being sent out; they may check or, in part divert, the stream. The extraordinary condition which the College confronts will naturally set the alumni to thinking. They have deemed it part of loyalty to urge boys to go to Dartmouth. They have held meetings to help arouse the interest and enthusiasm of preparatory schoolboys. Shall they cease that effort: and turn about and work as hard to establish a blockade as formerly they worked to open every door of access? The question is a natural one. It has been excellently put and as excellently answered in a letter recently received from J. A. Townsend '94, Pacific Coast Manager for the Butterick Publishing Company.

He says in part:

"From what I have read in different Dartmouth publications and letters from different men closely connected with the College which I have had the opportunity to read even though they were not addressed to me, and from what some of the alumni have said to me in conversation, I fear the impression may be created among the alumni that they ought not to encourage students going to Dartmouth because, if they do this, it would only increase your burdens.

"If this does happen as the result of this propaganda which the College authorities send out, either consciously or unconsciously, I believe it would be unfortunate. I believe Dartmouth's growth in the last twenty-five years has not been due simply to the excellence of what she gave her undergraduates but also to the loyalty and activity of her alumni. If this is true and the alumni stop their activity, it would be much like a firm's stopping advertising. I have seen many firms who oversold stop their advertising, thinking they could run on momentum, without realizing that momentum is gradual progress towards a full stop. Experience has taught that it is better to continue advertising so that one may always be oversold to some extent.

"Would it not be a good idea to urge the alumni to continue their activity in an even greater extent than they have in the past, but to use a little more intelligence and discrimination in their work in an effort to send to Dartmouth the kind of boys who can profit most by the kind of instruction Dartmouth will give them?

"There is no use in denying the fact that, in the past, many of the alumni have endeavored to send to Dartmouth any boy who contemplated going anywhere to college. We have not been fair enough to the boy or the College. We have at times urged the boy who wanted a mechanical or electrical engineering course to go to Dartmouth for a couple of years and then if he had not changed his mind regarding the line he intended to follow, he could go to a professional school and get the training.

"I do not need to elaborate farther, but will simply make the broad statement that we have in many cases urged boys to go to Dartmouth who should have gone elsewhere. And even though this was done with the best of intentions the facts are that neither the College nor the boy has been particularly benefited.

"If, on the other hand, the alumni all understand just the kind of training Dartmouth is prepared to give in the future and use their very best efforts to get the boys who needed that particular training to go to Dartmouth and advise those wishing training of a different kind to go elsewhere, there will not only be plenty of work for the loyal alumni to do but the result of that work will be decidedly to the benefit of both the College and the prospective student."

That covers the case. There are those who believe that, whatever plant facilities might be made available, a student enrollment of thousands would be a disaster for Dartmouth. If the highest quality of intelligent manhood becomes an effective requirement for entrance, numbers and results will largely take care of themselves.