Lining Them Up

At stroke seat for his third year is Gerry Cassedy who, contrary to belief, had stroked a losing crew before in his life prior to this year,--in fact three seats behind him, at number 5 is the very man, Mac Bancroft, who rowed in a Browne and Nichols crew which defeated the Cassedy-stroked Nobles eight in 1929. . .Bob Saltonstall and Ben Bacon, the two other members of the veteran stern four have proved themselves for three years able to take some of the weight off Cassedy's shoulders when the stroke is raised, which is the most important duty of numbers 7 and 6. . ."Woof" Hallowell, brother of last year's Varsity captain, and a member of this same stern five in his Freshman boat, holds down number 4 seat in place of Armstrong. . .Erickson, number 3, is the man who claims he likes the four-mile "brush" (as Coach Bert Haines would call it) because you have time to settle down and row! . .A Californian, Ed Yeomans, keeps up the Californian rowing tradition at 2, a new comer to be sure in this veteran crew, but earning his salt. . .At bow we come to Waldo Holcombe who carries the family tradition from lecture platform to the boat house. . .Well intrenched in the cox's seat for three years, at the rope's end, presides Ham Bissell, the only man who can see where the crew is going, and guide it on its straight and narrow path.

Harvard does not enter the race a favorite son. This is probably the most fortunate thing about the whole regatta. Favorite sons haven't proved too much in the past. Possibly the Blue oarsmen will go entirely Democratic, and split midstream. Harvard, Republican, will be solid.

Baseball Returns With the Graduates

Baseball is doubtless the queen of sports this week; father is once again in a familiar setting. Mentally blurred by a succession of courtyards, libraries, and Mt. Auburn Street refreshments, it is much as ever that the head of the family can penetrate to the banks of the Charles. But on Soldiers Field a baseball game presents a more compromising picture, and to a younger generation whose baseball interests have dwindled in the past few years, the keen-eyed graduate recalls that golden spring afternoon twenty-five years ago when Dexter scored to beat Yale 2 to 1 in ten innings.

The younger generation,--of utmost importance according to the 1907 class report,--has largely been groomed in the art of football. To explain baseball with examples and laboratory demonstrations in the aisle, is father's privilege, and yesterday he made the most of it. Crew once afforded father an added opportunity to take the head of the family, but now that Vassar breakfast tables ring with chatter about track and rowing, baseball remains without doubt the only field in which the male parent can be sure of himself in the company of his offspring.

Soldiers Field this spring has presented a somewhat melancholy picture to those who still stir at the sound of a clean single. And the contrast was tremendously noticeable yesterday, when the bleachers were filled not only with fathers, but with daughters, mothers, and brothers, all slowly burning in the warm sun. The Graduates make their own Cambridge these days, when the Seniors are in the height of their glory, quite removed from the brown-hatted individuals who but yesterday were complaining of divisionals. And in a few days more, after the center of affairs has drifted away by way of New London, Cambridge will return to its former solemnity. The dull minded men of Lowell House, if such there be, will be able to start the summer session in peace and quiet, without fearing the distractions of loudspeakers, Japanese lanterns, graduates or attractive daughters who know of track and crew, but not of baseball. --BY TIME OUT.