THAT PRINCETON GAME

Seven years ago when the dignified senior was timidly entering high school or plunging out into the cold world of boarding school, Harvard defeated Princeton at football. Seven years without a victory is a long time, and so it is only natural that the Harvard man is anxious above all for success this year in the Palmer Stadium. The biennial invasion of New Jersey is about to start--to be carried out, so reports are both by land and by sea. And the Crimson will not lack supporters when it faces the Orange and Black, for undergraduates, at least, would rather win tomorrow than any other time this year.

But, unless the Princeton team is unlike its predecessors, victory will not be attained by mere wishing. In the past two years Harvard has gone away from its defeats disappointed, dejected and perhaps a little "sore" and inclined to search for some hidden explanation for the defeat of the "invincible Crimson machine". But sober second thought has always led to the conclusion that there was only one real explanation--Princeton's superiority. Since the war and especially in the last two years the teams that have worn the Orange and Black have deserved to rank among the best in the country. They have proved their quality--their strength and their fighting spirit--from the Chicago Stadium to Soldiers Field.

It is such a team that Harvard faces tomorrow. Victory would fill the cup of joy to overflowing. Defeat would have only one consolation--the chance to honor another fine Princeton team.