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We who sometime assisted in the more or less fortnightly appearance of Lampoon, turn to him always with the best will in the world to be amused. We are loath to be denied and, where we must, eagerly accord the benefit of the doubt. We realize that only spasmodically does he achieve his full destiny of Chorus to this University drama; only too often he is the conventional Vice, with his lath dagger become a slapstick. It is his business to be local and timely; it is our good fortune if he be sometimes sage and witty. And of the few good jokes abroad in the world, it is a wonder that he snares so many.
The present number suffers from an excess of timeliness. Jest and youthful jollity are invoked too frequently to celebrate the Junior Dance. Mirth can scarcely preserve her light fantasticality through unlimited Bostons; and small wonder, for as the editorial informs us, "in the Boston the left foot points towards Somerville, while the right aims at the Harvard Bridge."
Of the things that do not deal with the dance, the longest--"A Trip to Wellesley"--is undertaken with hardly enough gayety of spirit to sparkle in every line. There is liveliness in the account of the air-ship hockey contest with Yale. "I Went to the Junior Dance" is a very long way "after Whitman."
The drawings, we are privately informed are almost all by the editors. The best is a clever caricature on the first page, which gives point to an ancient jest. The centre page will wake a responsive chord in the breasts of many. "Everybody's Dance" admirably sets forth a social tragedy. There are funny things too in the picture of the "Junior Dance" on the last page.
It is better or worse than the average? The reviewer (see p. 12)
"--ponders the question; then As a human should, with a tender smile. He silently drops the pen."
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