From all indications, students at Harvard are this year reaching a new high in seriousness. Three weeks have come and gone since the Midyear Examinations were ended, and the Cantabs, whether young or old, Yardlings or Seniors, continue in their staid ways, shunning riots and publicity and silently retiring to their books.

Usually the period after Midyears sees the beginning of the so-called "silly season" when students breathe a sigh of relief and begin to indulge in their wildest fancies. At least, that is the way it has been previous years but not, so far, this year.

For example, last year this time the College was just recovering from two so-called "silly" episodes. The first was when a smitten Freshman tried to make a date with a pretty damsel from Radcliffe. When she refused, he climbed a tree in Cambridge Common, in full view of her window, and stayed there for the better part of seven hours until she relented. While in the tree he composed the following ditty:

"The sad-sweet comfort for my troubles that I seek,

The will to take up gloomy, aimless life anew,


You give me with the pressure of your silk-soft check,

Though Frankly--almost anyone would do."

The second incident occurred a little later when four Harvard students spent a day and a night in an igloo in Leverett House courtyard in an effort to "stage a sit-down strike until Russia withdraws from the Karelian Isthmus or the snow melts."

Two years ago a voracious Freshman was to wait only eight more days before he began the famous goldfish-eating craze, and things around the College certainly were not dull what with the swimming team trying to acquire a red Arctic goose for a mascot, with another wayward Yardling going out for a midnight snack in his brightest pajamas, and with the Crimson requiring its candidates to kiss all Radcliffe girls coming out of Fogg Art Museum.

Three years ago, at this time, the Cantabs were pleading for mixed swimming between Harvard and Radcliffe students in the Indoor Athletic Building's pool. And one nature lover had already opened his window one morning and invited a squirrel to breakfast on some unpopped popcorn, only to arouse the whole dormitory a few minutes later when he went dancing down the corridors trying to shake choose the squirrel which had tenaciously fastened his teeth on Shea's right index finger.

Wake up, men of Harvard!