THE INTELLECTUAL RELAXATION

It is unfortunate that work on Massachusetts Hall goes no deeper than the foundations. If it did a strange tunnel might be exposed similar to several found beneath the streets of Washington. Just what the purpose of these mysterious passageways was nobody could tell; but everyone had his hypothesis. They were hiding places where German spies formulated their deadly schemes. They were avenues through which crafty bootleggers plied their trade.

It seems now that neither of these ideas were correct. Harrison G. Dyar, an entomologist of the Smithsonian Institute comes forward with the answer. He was the sapper of those mysterious passages. Weary with his day's toil Mr. Dyar found pleasure in donning overalls, throwing a pick and shovel over his shoulder, and digging tunnels beneath the most exclusive residential sections of Washington, the capital.

Here, obviously, is a problem for the psychoanalyst. Perhaps Mr. Dyar was unhappy in his chosen profession. Perhaps he tired of beetles and bugs, and longed for the higher, the nobler things of life--and dug underground tunnels. Or perhaps he felt a call down the long ages from his delving ancestor, Adam.

Whatever the reasons, Mr. Dyar's example may prove of value to everyone. Even the college undergraduate, weary of intellectual work which seems unending, may turn to an humbler and a purer diversion in his spare time by assisting the workmen in the Yard. In which case it may be proved that the person who last spring lighted the fire in Massachusetts Hall was neither a criminal nor a lunatic, but a philanthropic psychologist of unusually far and reaching vision.