'WARE FLUI

Dodging classes is a popular pastime in some college circles, and the favorite exit is via the doctor's office. Sign-offs for illness are of necessity easy to obtain; a red-nosed, be handkerchiefed pleader who coughs with any degree of sincerity can usually prevail over the most wary doctor. The ethics of such a procedure is debatable; but with regular classes closed, that question does not concern us seriously at this moment. More important is the opposite attitude, that of the man whose devotion to his work keeps him mixing with his neighbors regardless of his health. His sin, though in a better cause, is of worse consequences than that of the class dodger. The latter harms only himself; the farmer becomes a public nuisance and a menace to his fellow students.

These are the days when the Infirmary List grows ominously long. Dr. Lee's recent report reminds us that the coming months are the lowest on the graph of average health. The press is filled with rumors of a new influenza epidemic. Surely we cannot afford to play with contagion here, where disease once started is apt to spread throughout the University like a forest fire. Fortunately, the cessation of classes offers a partial fire-break. But sore-throats and anesges are not to be tolerated; no man with even an incipient cold should shun the doctor's office. The service is free; the safeguard of an examination is not only an advantage to the man but a duty to his neighbors.