Undergraduates' Supper.

Far be it from us in our offensive superiority to make nasty remarks about the hard-working and indefatigable organisers of this interesting function; but the fact remains that a festal meeting from which half the students are shut out cannot he called a success. We sling no mud—we allocate no blame, but next year it may seem advisable to sell tickets only to as many students as there is room for; or else (to make another diffident suggestion) to get a place big enough for all the students to whom tickets are sold. For it is an unsatisfactory state of affairs when a clamorous horde of hungry people (many of whom no doubt in anticipation of the supper have had no tea) have to be turned away to discover some other means of subsistence. In this respect then the supper was one of the worst failures on record; but those who managed to squeeze their way in and get a seat it must he said enjoyed themselves vastly. The menu as usual promised more than materialised; but what appeared was very eatable. Space does not permit the enumeration of all who helped along the proceedings by warbling and declaiming so delightfully and otherwise performing; but their efforts were a pleasure to the ear and a feast to the intellect. Professor Marsden, who seemed to be in a very genial mood, made some rambling and rather incoherent remarks about the working of the Professorial Board, a singularly infelicitous reply to the toast of V.U.C. proposed by Mr. W. R. Kennedy. Mr. S. A. Wiren (who though he arrived very late yet surprisingly enough got eat and what appeared to be a sufficiency of food) struck a more suitable and inspiring note on the subject of graduation and College-ties (N.B.—Nothing to do with neckwear.) Proceedings terminated we believe somewhere about 11 p.m.

P.S.—The rendezvous, Messrs. Gamble and Creed's, Lambton Quay; the date, June 30th.

Junius Brutus.