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Capping Procession.

"No Masque———"

The Capping Celebration "danse, mais il ne marche pas."

The Procession is off.

This abandonment by the students is a voluntary self-mortification, but it is not that the flower of V.U.C. chivalry have lost the enthusiasm and "joi de vivre" (not to say "eau de vie") of former years. The heady joy of sweeping through the streets in kaleidoscopic array with a clamour that would have affrighted Babel is still yearned for. But wiser counsels (not Councils!) prevailed; because in this era of jangling ganglions, processions seem to be as provocative to some bovine intellects as an All Red Route to a Bulls Eye, or a Ribbon to a de Groot, and are likely to result in Rock Gardens being put to uses Nature never intended.

Ergo, no procession, although day and night through Capping Week the Ghost Train passes through the streets—a silent shadow of memories.