The Undergraduate Chair

OCTOBER is a big month for "traditions." Not the traditions like football rallies, Wet Down and Class Day that have become a genuine part of the College, but undergraduate customs that are invented on the spur of the moment and gain acceptance because students have never seen things done differently. This year such events were running wildly throughout the campus.

For example, it is "traditional" for the freshmen to win the tug-of-war, an event instituted about seven years ago and revamped in the fall of '52. At that time the practice of attaching many ropes to a central log was replaced by the use of one particularly strong rope. As may be recalled, this was done after the '55s were held to a draw with the '54s because the log split. The only real precedent is that the freshmen have won the event ever since.

This year's tug was obviously starcrossed. It was scheduled on the Thursday before the Harvard game in a lastminute move that allowed only a day's notice. What had happened was that Palaeopitus realized the freshmen would like to remain hatless during that weekend and decided to move up the event.

At first, Saturday seemed the best day. However, consultation with traffic officials made it clear that the snarls that it would cause made this impossible. So a "boldly calculated risk" was taken and the Thursday date was set — on Tuesday.

The campus was not to learn of this until Thursday because at just this point the sophomore newsboard of The Dartmouth decided to. pull a coup. Delving back into primeval history, they discovered that their predecessors had occasionally captured the facilities of the paper and published a parody. Since a member of their group was scheduled to serve as the night man at press, they were able to substitute fake copy. Alas, for the tug-of-war, the extensive story scheduled was replaced by an item hidden where no one would read it.

By Thursday everyone was finally aware of the rope pull and a good share of the College was on hand. The center of campus was a mass of photographers, Green Key men and even faculty members. As the affair was ready to begin, freshmen lined the north end of the rope back to Parkhurst, but an equal number of heavier "sophomores" filled the other side.

As usual, the Palaeopitus man raised his hose and fired at the center of the rope while a cohort discharged the starting gun. The two sides strained for an instant and then the weight superiority of the upperclass line overcame the '59s and they were slowly dragged through the stream of water. Then suddenly the sophomores let go prematurely and in a moment of confusion the freshmen reversed the tide. No one was sure what happened but '59 was awarded the heat.

Realizing that this freak would not be repeated, the orientation leaders attempted to clear the upperclass line of the mass of junior and senior ringers. However, this proved impossible and things proceeded as before. The lines made ready for the second heat, the hose was raised, the pistol poised and then it jammed. The rope went sailing up the freshman end as the sophomores let go.

Finally action resumed and the freshmen were twice dragged through the water with little difficulty. This debacle left everyone stunned, especially those running the orientation program. For since the institution three years ago of the tradition of non-coercive orientation, no one has ever been faced with planning an after-the-tug program. Others took this more casually and the following farce was enacted on the site:

(The Scene is the center of campus. Aprofessor, soda pop in hand, is surroundedby about ten students, several in GreenKey and Palaeopitus garb.)

Sound from background: You and your - Green Key.

Key Man: Well, next year we'll have to ask for ID's.

Background: That's what comes of admitting intellectuals.

Palaeopitus Man: We jest couldn't get the upperclassmen to leave, but I almost died when I saw you.

Background: You wanted to know if I was a sophomore! Ha!

Senior: Well, ya know them guys had me so surrounded that I couldna moved anyway.

Professor (brandishing pop): Some sophomore left this with me.

(At this point a man comes dashing up,mumbles a thank you and removes thesoda.)

Key Man (looking at departing figure): Some sophomore!

Our actors move off, the professor heading to console several stunned souls. Theonly sophomore present cries, "There'll beno beanie roast tonight!"

After solemn deliberation Palaeopitus decided that if the freshmen built a large bonfire for Dartmouth Night, scheduled for the next day, they could throw in their caps. This is a tradition born with my class's freshman year which Palaeopitus has tried ever since to suppress. The goal was forty feet and allegedly Thayer school engineers were imported to check the results. It was a stupendously satisfactory bonfire, but this failed to inspire the '59s. Almost nobody bothered to dance around the pyre, let alone burn a hat, and the wet fire failed to blaze properly.

The next day Dart took a hand in the customs racket and had an October arbor day. Heralded by an advance publicity campaign, during which The Dartmouth cooperated by kidnapping the original tree (which was dead anyway), the affair was marked by radio broadcasts and a "concert" by the band. All this occurred at noon at the Inn Corner. Dart, though putting out a better-than-average issue, still fell short of humor. The only promising part of the magazine was the return of the Jacko feature "Vox Clamantis," complete with dogs.

The weekend itself started traditions the Dean's Office probably would like to forget. Not that there were any discipline problems, but the affair became virtually a second Fall Houseparties. A dorm had to be taken over for dates and the fraternity houses were given the option of turning their premises over to the horde of females. With home games against "the big three" being a part of Ivy League plans, similar crises can be expected in the future.

The Dartmouth this month embarked on a series of 42 editorials on the academic life of the College. These represent an attempt to present the paper's thinking on the issues that must be faced by the College as it revamps its program. Thus far, suggestions have included: a revision of orientation which would recruit the best men on the SOC to lead a continuing body - the ultimate objective being more upperclassmen in the program; a fourcourse system based upon tougher, more unified courses, more intensive study of material and a program of introductory courses stressing great works read in their entirety in so far as possible.

By the time of publication of this article the series will have covered the problems of language study - make it meaningful for the student; English composition - work with a man until he learns to write properly; the major requirements - make them strict; and honors work - more offered.

Other areas in the series include the faculty situation in terms of recruiting and keeping the best men; the mechanics of the curriculum - grades, attendance, and type of instruction; the question of coeducation; and the whole problem of the actual institution of change.

The freshmen held their elections last month with a new set of rules intended to limit expenditures; and while ostentation was less costly, there was little decrease in initiative. Notable innovations included the blaring in Thayer of a tape-recorded statement by an eager young man (with a family history of active political work). However, this was not even enough to get him through the newly instituted primaries. In the run-off that followed Patrick O. Burns of New York City became president. The other officers are: vice-president, Michael Miller Jr. of Wichita, Kansas; secretary, Walter Vincent of Windsor, Conn.; and treasurer, David Robinson of Cleveland.

Part of the Dartmouth Night crowd in front of Dartmouth Hall on October 21.