The other day we ran an editorial remarking that Harvard in many respects may be compared to Main Street; there is a sameness from day to day, it was observed, in our life that smacks of the monotony of Gopher Prairie. The boy whose duty it is to hand out books at the desk in the Main Reading Room of Widener must have read that editorial and have been profoundly moved by its truth. Indeed we believe he took it so much to heart that he determined to do his share to spice the drab existence of the undergraduate with the bright sparkle of wit. Witness the following conversation which we heard repeated three times while waiting for a book last evening.

Exam-harried undergraduate: "Have you got the final examinations in English 32?"

Boy: "What year?"

Exam-harried undergraduate: "Why--er--last year."

Boy (disappointed but still hopeful): "You mean for 1921?"

Exam-harried undergraduate (without thinking): "Yes."

Boy (triumphant): "Hasn't been written yet, here's 1920."

We have suspected this particular youth and the other who creep up behind one to snatch the book over-due at the desk of almost everything but never before of humor. Let us be thankful for small blessings.