Hazy Recollections

Informal, jolly, and thoroughly friendly was the atmosphere pervading this year's Capping Ball, voted by most as the "best yet." All praise and appreciation is to be lavished on the committee responsible for organisation, (1) because of the smooth way every thing came off: and (2) because we all behaved ourselves primly and properly (but whether that's their fault or ours, they may have the benefit of the doubt).

Professors trotted round mincingly in the caparlty of chaperons, or aban-doned themselves wildly to the cavortings of the destiny wait? We gazed in awe and admiration at the daring couples who braved the glare of flash-lighting to record their clinging "unconscious" looking presence at this dance, on Selochrome or whatever it was the enterprising photographers used.

We played peep-bo through the chrysanthemums on the arrangement in the centre of the room, collided with the stream coming in the door, and even used some rugby tactics during the performance of that wild dance, the military two-step. Henry Rudolph's orchestra was sparking on all four, and handed out some real swing music.

"Salient" found a delightful corner with settees, chocolates and cigarettes [unclear: displayed and after] at the generosity of the committe, sat down to enjoy. Along came Profs. Gordon and Rankine-Brown both hilarious. Later. Prof. Miles, all smiles and shirt-front, arrived too.

Feeling a bit suspicious, "Salient" made enquiry, and information was proffered (sorry) making it apparent that "Salient" was in the professional parking area. "But." said one of those mighty men, "there is no need to move."