Sutlers, Gamins, Flatfoots Join Havoc Cry for Tiger's Blood

Yardling blinked curiously up from their books on torchlic John Harvard, Hasty Pudding pool players brandished their cues menacingly at the imaginary Tiger foe, ladies of the new look tossed bouquets at the serried Crimson ranks from Adams House windows, and pinball artists paused from their labors within the Thomas Sandwich Spa.

But the rally parade of last night was like the rolling stone. It picked up a little momentum en route but not very much moss. Only when the marchers finally drew up in front of the Indoor Athletic Building did imperceptible accretions to the fringe of the mob begin to gather.

Student apathy, chimera of the Student Council and the winter-leanness of H.A.A. cash customers melted under the charms of grid personalties Clarence "Chief" Boston, Wally Flynn, Emil Drvaric. Under the intense coaxings of pep provocateur Gerald S. Spear '48, disorganized expressions of "tan that Tiger" were welded into a harmonized version of "Crimson in Triumph Flashing."

Spear, whose utterances were new greeted as those of a farm blocker nominating the favorite son at a Republican national convention, managed to get across that "Captain Vince" Moravec tried hard to get there but couldn't

make it. The crowd caught on. They shouted in unison for Messrs. Moffie, Adams, and Pierce.

Non-partisan personalities were also in ample evidence, responding some what less to the cheerleaders entreaties for noise. Eight amateur psychologists were grimly scribbling notes on "mob psychology" for the next tutorial session of Charles F. Mosteller, lecturer on Social Relations.

John F. Wohlwill '49, one of Mosteller's agents, was too absorbed in his clinical analysis to, volunteer any premature diagnosis. But Mrs. Naney Boeneau, Radcliffe. '40, found "fine raw material for further deductions" in the antics of the spirited mob.

No reaction, academic or otherwise, was displayed by the two recognizable minions of law and order. Chef Alvin Randall puffed his pipe in contentment throughout, and Sergent Jim Toomey only moved into action when an abandoned Princeton car was turned into a large kettledrum by some over enthusiastic team supporters.Two of the Crimson's youngest supporters inspect a Yard Cop as he listens to a motley throng of pre-game noise-makers.