THOU SHALT NOT

For many years, every class, upon entering Harvard, has found posted in various places about its living quarters a set of rules called Parietal Regulations. In the newer buildings, such as the Freshman Dormitories, these seem to have been fairly recently printed; but as the undergraduate moves into less modern abodes, they grow older and dingier; until in the Senior Dormitories in the Yard he finds them in company with regulations about carrying water from the common pump; use of kerosene lamps; and other subjects of historical interest. Wherever and whenever he reads them he is amused--by the prohibition of his mad desire to play ball in the Yard, or to beat upon drums; the designation of the days upon which he must remove his small stock (if any) of distilled liquors from his rooms; and the section which concerns itself with his morals.

Although most of the undergraduates are not as eager to violate these rules (especially the last) as the author of College Life would have us believe, they never take any of them seriously, and therefore overlook, the one which is really practical--namely, that about music and noise after ten o'clock. If anyone is moved by the impulse to sing, play the piano, or practice on the saxophone at eleven or twelve o'clock, does he think of the commandment posted in the corridor, or of his next-door neighbor? He does not. If he resides in the Freshman Dormitories he may be admonished by a conscientious proctor. Otherwise his near neighbors suffer--silently, but not in silence.

Although it is generally admitted that we do a large part of our sleeping in classes, quite a little is often attempted before midnight. Others try to study during these hours. The residents of the Yard have the street-cars and the various bells as a diversion; while this year those who dwell on Mt. Auburn street have the pleasant lullaby of the two pumps engaged in the Herculean task of pumping out a spring which flows beside Claverly. Since springs have a habit of filling up as fast as they are pumped out, and as the noises in the Yard seem likewise destined to go on forever, let us not aggravate their inevitable chorus by preventable accompaniments of our own.