FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Life seems to be full of little irritations that pursue a man wherever he goes. Whether it be that darned shoelace that breaks at just the wrong moment, as you are about to dash into breakfast before the doors close, or your roommate who has absconded with the morning paper, there always seems to be some petty thing that takes the joy out of life. The latest thorn in the side of tranquillity is the Union's refusal to let Freshmen take fruit out of the dining halls with them.

There is nothing very serious about this arbitrary little restriction and no one will go hungry as a result, but it tries a man's patience, and ruffles his equanimity. Mr. Hieman has denied any connection with the new fruit embargo, so the only conclusion that can be drawn is that some waitress or waitresses decided that she would take the matter into her own hands. But now that all fruit served must be cut and eaten on the premises, the waitresses have the added responsibility of seeing that no one slyly puts a grapefruit or two into his pocket, and then dashes out before the buxom valkyries of Unionhalla can catch him. This is an onerous and difficult task from which no one reaps any benefit.

The sun-kissed orange, the vitaminous banana and the MacIntosh apple all have high nutritive value which would be very good for general health, particularly as the hot weather has arrived. Viewed from this angle it would seem that a very healthy tendency to consume more fruit is being officially discouraged. However, forbidden fruit somehow or other has a sweeter taste, unless some misguided individual has the bad luck to pocket a lemon, in which case his sly smile will rapidly turn to a pucker.

The present Union restriction on the exportation of fruit is petty, trivial and slightly annoying, and in view of the fact that the House Dining Halls do not prohibit its consumption off the premises, the Union will put itself in a ridiculous position, if it continues its present policy.