Whatever the complaints about Cambridge weather, it cannot be accused of monotony. A change from tropical, blazing heat to the usual coolness of a New England spring is no slight feat for a single afternoon. And it has driven the persecuted Cantabrigians to acrobatic changes of raiment; at one moment, clothes as close to nothingness as decorum permitted; an hour later sweaters and topcoats had recovered their usual prestige as necessities in combating the climate. Yesterday, collapses, faintings under the relentless torridity; tomorrow, beggars will probably be found frozen on the streets.

The variability of New England weather is recorded by Mark Twain in the minutiae of its changes, but some new epic singer must be found to record the heroic changes of yesterday. No wonder the New England temperament is so firm and unyielding; it has been molded by disgust for the climate.

The cooling of the temperature may be a sign that the feverish activity of the last two weeks is drawing to a close. After a period of white heat, undergraduate intellects are resorting to their normal lukewarmness. A comfortable atmosphere again pervades the whole of Cambridge.