The Undergraduate Chair
When the sun-burned vacationist and his suit case arrived in Hanover in September, the town had already been aroused from its summer slumber (at least, we suppose it slumbers) by the thud of footballs on Memorial Field. The campus looked just as green, the elm trees just as serene, and the freshmen just as hopelessly lost as usual. The autumnal landscape was complete in every detail, even to the Co-op signs lining the highway from White River, and was, if anything, lovelier than usual. Why is it that we always, upon returning, sit down with a contented sigh on some packing-box in the chaos of our room, look out upon the campus and feel a vast restfulness?
College, especially during the first few weeks of fall, is anything but a restful place. One plunges forthwith into the hecticalia of the rushing season, which is followed immediately by the colorful phantasmagoria of the week-end season. (Hecticalia and phantasmagoria are two of our favorite autumn words.) Perhaps it is merely because everything looks so quiet and serene that we get that restful feeling. Anyway, the emancipated sensation is delightful, when we take off our necktie, put on a sweater, and slouch across the campus turfs in collegiate comfort.
After two weeks of hemming, hawing, handshaking and hypocrisy, we finally got our rushees signed on the dotted line. There was the usual feverish uncertainty, the usual nebulous haze of rumor, the usual slinging of mud, and quite the usual dishonesty. Probably the only difference from the rushing and pledging of previous years lay in the fact that things seemed to shape up a little sooner. As last year, the rules provided for chinning periods and legal sinking on Thursday and Friday nights prior to the final pledging on Saturday at midnight. Quite a number of delegations were rounded up, illegally but effectively, previous to these chinning periods. After the first night of sinking, the clouds cleared away and disclosed the majority of the class signed safely up. On the next two nights a few of the conscientiously procrastinating and of the disappointed-but- still-hoping jumped on the band wagon, and the midnight bidding on Saturday was a ceremony quite devoid of interest. The delegations this year were small, but much more equal in size than they were last year.
As the center of campus interest shifted from the fraternity house, it focussed on Memorial Field, turning here first 'for the customary trimming of the Norwich cadets. As usual, the cavorting of the freshmen between the halves offered the chief entertainment of the occasion. There followed the Hobart and Allegheny contests, both bringing larger crowds to town than usual. The week-end of the Allegheny game found the village quite a-buzz with grads and girls, and there was a great deal going on of a cheery nature.
And so we come to the peerade season, and here we are at the height of it. The Columbia game drew a limited number, and the Harvard peerade, that fine old institution, drew the total population.
Obviously, during all this, the College has been much preoccupied with things of a nonacademic nature. When snow finally settles down over the gridirons, things will be quieter. Between that time and the present there are several more peerades—and a Fall Party.
