Exodus

THE PRESS

After the football rally last night, which let it get whispered about that there is going to be a match down in New Haven sometime during this weekend, The Dartmouth set itself to thinking of other reasons why Dartmouth should trek southwards on the old crusade.

We found that there are many other reasons for the going forth.

Yale is handsome. That is, in its libraries there are sets and sets of very handsome blueprints, holy with the deep purity of Gothic tradition. When you look at the sandstone Gothic of Yale remember these prints and the mellowed dreams in back of them.

Yale is urbane. That is, there is the urbs of New Haven and New York Urbs. We suggest it as a good thing that Dartmouth from time to time pop out into the urbane world just to see for itself how provincial this College can be. Think how many weeks it has been since a derby sat smartly on your head. Think how long it has been since you unfolded damask across your lap in sitting down to dinner. It is all very well to rusticate but it is not so fine to sink so deeply into country ways that you forget that Hanover is a very small town indeed and its customs very simple.

Yale is news-worthy. It is a good yardstick against which to measure Dartmouth. Many of our sins fade by comparison. There is a desperate uniformity about Yale men, a class-consciousness that manacles them to the dubious destiny of middle class fortunes rather well. And of all American colleges Yale is easily the most sentimentalized of the nation, the essence of collegiatism poised against the erudition of Harvard and Chicago. Tradition has a special holiness at Yale which renders it immune from criticism. It is a good thing? Ah, well--

Then, too, other little things will pop up which may dim the lustre of Dartmouth a bit. The Yale Record, despite bursts of pubertie petulance, has much better art work than our Jacko, its humor has greater variety and the depth of sophistication which does not strive so passionately for whimsy and urbanity. And the Yale Nows, stuffed like a Strasbourg goose with advertising, puts the business board of The Dartmouth to honest shame.

Finally Yale is enjoying the last of autumn pageantry, whereas our north country already is drear with days like cold slate. It is pleasant to go from a dying season southward into the sun.

Go down to Yale. Go to the football game and take it as you like to take it, quietly or noisily, modestly or brashly. And go to the dances and to Slippery Eddie Kelley's in Waterbury. Take it all in stride.

Gee, Mr. Yale, leave us our generalizations anyhow. --The Dartmouth.