Young and Fresh

I have just been reading "Fed Up's" letter. He must be a blasé blighter—in fact, I should imagine is he one of those bright lads who manage to keep the social whirl at V.U.C. at such a great tempo? No, perhaps he is a withered rosebud, and was jealous of seeing so many fresher Mowers than himself flying round the room. Well, I can't think what he really might be. I suppose he knows his own business best.

I am a freshman, and thoroughly enjoyed the good old hullaballoo of the dance and all—it was quite good fun getting trodden on and squashed and trying to move round with some other fresher not able to dance, especially when the dances were my favourite ones. Yes; and why shouldn't "elephantine attempts" be wasted on our "sweetness"? "Fed Up" and others have had ever since last November to renew excess of energy—and after all. we appreciate it—so why— Well, he knew what the freshers' turn-out was going to be like, so why did he not stay home, instead of coining along to inflame his grunts. The ideal thing for "Fed Up" is a trip to Christchurch at Easter for Tournament. In that town is a Varsity—and opposite the Varsity is a museum—and in the museum is a lovely mummy-room full of lovelier relics and things—he would find them so much more thrilling and less fuss than these freshers.