TOUJOURS GAI?

We've been so often accused of being the lightheaded throwbacks of the Great War that we've almost begun to despair of doing anything purposive at all. Then, frantically, we've dug in and produced earnestness—and nothing else. Now, be earnestness of the highest type or no, it isn't natural that it should be balanced by nothing of the light, the trivial. And that brings us around to the current issue of the Dart, the English Department publication, and the Arts Quarterly. Particularly the last mentioned, they are in every way worthy magazines. They are made up and bound attractively, they are edited by a capable board—but we never seem to laugh any more. Is the world suddenly turned so gloomy, we wonder? TheDartmouth doesn't seem to think that it ought to be—it concludes its review of the Dart:

"What the Dart principally needs, in common with every other college literary magazine that I have ever seen, is a lightening here and there in tone. Pray, gentlemen, be a little gay."

The campus stands in real need of an organ which would fall about midway between the Jaclco, that outrageously funny magazine, and The Dartmouth, let us say. "L'Oiseau," a column now running semi-occasionally in The Dartmouth, approximates it, but the feeling abroad now seems to indicate a facetious furore not too far away. We don't want to be convulsed all the time as we are with the Jacko, but an incidental innocent chuckle now and then is the goal for the halfformed movement already afoot.

By the way, while we're speaking of things literary, it might be well to mention that The Dartmouth, in the name of progress, has removed its headquarters to the top floor of the Musgrove Building.