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AN OLD CUSTOM

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

Way back in the dark ages, Joel Neanderthal, class of 2000 B.C., must have taken a stuttering freshman by the hand, and led him through the sacred, musty halls of Caveman College. As Joe walked through the cool depths, he probably threw a fatherly arm about that adolescent neophyte's shoulder, and said: "Umph, wumph, pumph, and humph," doesn't mix with coeds, chocolate sodas, and song."

Since then, editorial writers on every college paper, from the Medieval Mercury to the Harvard Crimson solemnly have advised fresh to yearn to learn, which is very worthy. But college consists of more than flusty-dusty tomes. It includes more than extra-curricular activities. College means sprawling on the Embankment while a beautiful blonde reads poetry to you; browsing in the Museum of Fine Arts; canoeing on the Boston University river, formerly called the Charles; listening to the radicals on Boston Common.

Surely, freshmen, study. Surely, freshmen, participate in extra-curricular affairs. But leave enough time to cut yourself a big, frosty slice of the cake of life. That is what you have when all else is forgotten. --Boston University News.

Ed Note: Gosh, that's how we feel, too.

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