OTHER THINGS
The usual variety of excellent lecturers has been in Hanover the past month. Perhaps the high spot was provided by A. J. Villiers in an evening devoted to an expose of the clipper-ship menace, a lecture which was well-illustrated with pictures made while he was aboard his ship. Two showings were necessary to accommodate the crowd which gathered to hear him. Bradford Washburn, a sophomore at Harvard, came the night after under the auspices of the Outing Club to tell of his mountain-climbing career. Senator Moses and Representative Luce of Massachusetts were the speakers on the Guernsey Moore Center Foundation for this year.
The Dartmouth has been riding along easily on the top of its gently critical wave. First we think that we must do something about the equivocal attitude which it takes for a while—and just as we are getting up in arms about that, we are smitten in the eye with an editorial which causes us to subside a bit. We think that it is right on the verge of launching an educational program—and if it doesn't, it should. Meiklejohn and the rest of his class aren't officially approved— we shall undoubtedly soon know what side we are on. It's a trifle disconcerting to be on both sides at once, that is. Its variegated editorality (don't look it up) has brought many good points to the public eye, however. Perhaps the best of these is the survey into the results of the reading period. After quoting a concise table of statistics "gleaned from the administrative offices" the conclusion is reached that "... the reading period has benefitted the majority of the college. The minority upon whom its effect was nil is made up of those who took advantage of the freedom and sped to points south and southeast. The arguments in its favour, then, are just this: there seems to be some slight increase in high averages; there was probably a greater amount of comprehensively synthesizing courses; and finally, there very definitely was a more sophisticated and mature attitude about the cut-and-dried examination period."
In addition to this, Webster Hall, the ballot-box outrage, the Nugget, and sundry other things of campus interest were conclusively covered, an inverted aphorism and a rather cockeyed advertisement climaxing the period. They follow: "Sweet are the uses of anonymity" and "Lost—bass drum: please apply Palaeopitus." We think that there is only one more thing to add— L'Oiseau, a new funny-column has been appearing irregularly—and we see in it a well-hidden plan to drive Jacko from the humorous supremacy which we sometimes wonder if it enjoys.
