TO THE VICTOR

New York, the modern Babylon, at this time of year holds out a welcoming hand to such students as have survived the midyear examinations, which by a general consensus of opinion have been harder than ever before. Minds which have been wound up like a spring for the semi-annual ordeal feel that they are entitled to the lubrication of a week-end trip. Timetables of trains and steamers and criticisms of New York plays are much in demand.

Only a genuine joy-killer would point out that passing examinations is only the routine duty of students in every college, and not a feat of heroism calling for an extraordinary reward. It would be a useless effort on the part of the joy-killer, at that. There is among most of the student body after every examination period, a feeling that they have studied harder than ever, and that they deserve a high grade, whether or not they receive it. It is better to celebrate, by all means, while this righteous mood endures, than to wait for the cold light of reason and the return of the mailing cards have a sobering effect.