JUST AN OLD CAMBRIDGE CUSTOM

No test tube reaction is more certain; few produce a noisier or more spectacular effect. The ingredients: one warm, springish evening, several hundred assorted students, and any Freshman Smoker furnishes a suitable match to set it all off. Model 1943 proved no exception.

Now let's see: a mob of spring-inspired students germinates somewhere around Dunster House, sprouts from all directions en route to the Square, where it blooms, is nipped and withers in rapid succession. In the course of this brief life-cycle, a generally noisy world is treated to a lot of essentially peaceful noise for a change. Sundry streets, side-walks, students and Yard Cops receive a generous dosage of nothing worse than a wastebasket full of water; that the streets and sidewalks needed it, is fairly well established. Finally, about sixty Cambridge cops are treated to their favorite out-door sport--there isn't one who wouldn't trade a whole season of Policemen's Balls for a chance to strike the fear of God and the Uniformed Man into a crowd of undergraduate disbelievers. Final box score is seven students bagged, tried and fined for the party.

So, the annual outing is over. A harmless affair this year, it was in gentle contrast to some of its more pugnacious predecessors. It furnished a safety-valve for a lot of steam raised by the spring sun from rain-soaked undergraduate souls. Naturally it woke up a few people, but there were no serious fights, no property damaged and no one was hurt. Ho hum, pass the liver pills, Roderick.