Foundation Term Doings.

"Savoury Mince and Corned Beef.—This be our watchword."

One term has ended and another has begun. The Old Foundation Residents of Weir can look back and think of the happy term that they have spent, and how much they did to set the future of the house on good solid foundations. Speaking quite frankly, however, I think that it can honestly be said that Weir House has begun to fulfil the expectations of the students in building up the spirit of the 'Varsity, and have been responsible for the success of more than one entertainment connected with 'Varsity.

The reason for this may be attributed to the fact that all matters pertaining to 'Varsity activities are thoroughly chewed over and mastigated along with other indigestibles at the meal tables. The dining-room appears to be the favourite retreat for settling all discussions and the furthering of argu-ments. One need only walk in to the dining-room shortly after the commencement of any meal and take a seat at one of the tables to while away the time before the first course is set on the table for close examination, and later a lot of grumbling. Above the row of the diners can be heard "Zip" K. J. Scott laying down the law to a resenting audience, or perhaps Mr. Porpois-Jones, amidst roars of laughter giving a little dissertation upon the stunts of the Powers in detecting submarines during the Great War. Later the "Live-wire" Chairman of the House Committee (so-called) may be heard passing personal remarks at several of the residents about the attitude adopted towards the food, and then a general discussion as to whether they are complaining, or merely remarking. One particular rowdy student, who delights in helping Professor Cornish with his speeches at Convivial functions, then starts off doubting every statement that might be made, which lends to a solid bombardment of questions as to what he and his fellow-committeemen have done to justify their positions as members of the House Committee (so-called): The piano, the gymnasium equipment, the brown bread, the toast, the Common Room, magazines and periodicals, and lastly the social programme are all given to free discussion and questions hurtled at the worthy Treasurer like shots from a Maxim gun, while those not particularly concerned in the discussion add to the row by emitting mechanical-like noises in quick succession. One table in particular seems to be responsible for the majority of the row, and any argument not completed to the satisfaction of all during the long period that they remain in the dining-room is carried to the Common Room and there argued behind closed doors.

Saturday night in the Dining Room, now that the football season has commenced, with everyone keen, might just as well be spent on the football field, for during the space of an hour or so, during which dinner is hurried, the talk ranges from scrum formations to the play of the individuals seated around, and their claims to the positions in the various teams for which they play. Many seem to resent this criticism, although coining as it does from some of the most promising critics with such a wide all-round knowledge it should be heeded most seriously, and criticism is brushed aside by the players in their attempt to defend any faulty moves which they might have made during the afternoon's play. From the dining-room the students drift to the Common Room, and their very spirited arguments on such topics as "All Black Bullock-Douglas and his play in International Rugby Circles" are freely discussed, with the dire result that some of the worthies seem to become a little heated, and finally leave to console themselves with such books as "Garrow on Crimes."

Cheerio for the present, but wait for the lurid description of our folk and their partners at our dance (to be).