AN inquiring and rather conceited Freshman asked me the other day, "What are the best hours to take cars to and from Boston? I should like to know when I should meet the nicest fellows, as I go on the tramway - I mean, horse-car - been on the Continent so much - a good deal." As the entire faculties of '82 seem to be concentrated in an effort to meet only "nice fellows," I thought the matter would interest them all; so I told my young friend that he might look for an answer in the next Crimson.
In going to Boston, never take a car before ten A. M.; it is too early to be up, and interferes with the breakfast at the Holly Tree. It is quite proper to take any car from eleven to twelve, as this shows an entire disregard of recitations, and you will be sure to meet Doggy, '80, going to visit some of his clothiers and then to lunch at Parker's. The cars between two and four are frequented by the men who have to go in at this hour in order to get back to Memorial at 5.29; after four, however, you need have no fear of meeting such inferior mortals, but may look forward with pleasure to meeting Bummer, '81, who goes in at this hour to walk on Washington Street, after which dissipation he dines at Young's, and then goes to the Boylston.
If you are going to the theatre, and do not care to dine in town, avoid all cars before half past seven, for the men who take these want to get to the theatre before the play begins, - a thing quite unendurable to any fellow of taste. You will meet more of your own style between half past seven and eight than at any other hour. The cars after this hour you will not, I hope, find it often necessary to go in.
Now, as to coming out from Boston. When you spend the night with your uncle on Commonwealth Avenue, do not come out before ten. Grinder takes the half-past-eight car every morning; he lives at his home in East Chelsea, and has a nine-o'clock recitation - which he never cuts - every day in the week, as he takes twenty-eight hours of electives this year. An exception may be made of Monday morning, when Mr Beck, of Beacon Street, refreshed by his devotions at Trinity, takes the nine-o'clock car, to the great delight of his parents, - and then plays tennis all day.
The afternoon cars are not at all desirable; but, if you are forced to come out to dinner, take the 5.45 car, as that shows you 're not at Memorial.
As to the evening cars, which you are most interested in, take none before twelve; from ten to eleven the same ignorant creatures who get to the theatre early rush home again. You, of course, will always take a little supper at Ober's, and then one of the late cars; the company is not, generally, quiet or perfectly select, but you will always find a few "swell men."
One or two more useful hints may be added. Never carry a bundle, however small, for it looks as if you were trying to diminish your bill at Sawin's; never give your seat to any lady, for it's none of your business to see that other people are comfortable; and be as late as possible in getting your ticket out, as it shows consideration for the tired conductor to have it all ready for him; and, by the way, never speak to any classmate unless he rooms in Beck or Little's, otherwise you may be taken for a scrub.
If you carefully observe these rules, first practised by '80, your conduct on the "tramway" will certainly gain you much admiration, and help establish your reputation as a "nice fellow."