sion that college life is a sort of glorified Orpheum show mixed up with a little athletics and a beauty section—that the whole thing is a continuous circus in which no one really works but the janitor and the spot-light man. They seldom see the work that is undone, the problems that are unsolved, the papers that are unwritten, and the books that are crying to be read, and know nothing of the regular grind of college life—of the horrible scramble to catch up that begins, in spite of tired muscles and racked nerves, almost before the door is closed upon their departure. At home they have heard little of college life excepting of its escapades; here they are likely to see little but its exaggerated diversions. And so in the exuberance of youth, in the desire to entertain, actually and metaphorically, we take these strangers in. We give them an entirely erroneous idea of real college life and of the daily routine of work which forms the major part of undergraduate ex-
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