"REST YE MERRY, GENTLEMEN!"

You, whose homes are within the limits of the region which can be reached by train on Saturday, the twenty-third at high noon without the time extension; and you whose determination to pass January Divisionals sternly shuts out even visions of holidays, are left in Cambridge. The rest are already gone.

To be sure, there are only ten days ahead, an average vacation of two days of travel, two days of frenzied activity, and six days of sleep. And there are croakers to talk of the good old Christmases with the house banked by three feet of snow without and warmed by good cheer within. But after all, they are but a few. Christmas is still Christmas, whether you spend it in New Jersey or in Widener digging up data on early Mediterranean pirates. And the CRIMSON, after pulling down the editorial windowshades for the year, pauses only for best wishes to the rest of the University before departing.