Men who hang around

Who is it that disturbs the Drama Club, that gets tied up in the Ping Pong (sorry, Table Tennis) tables, who make such queer noises in the men's changing room? Can it be the Harriers in belated training? Is it the spectre of the Progressive Club? Is it Stan Campbell? No! It's the Boxing Club.

What! that seasoned club that buds six weeks before tournament and thereafter fades into a dew, a mist?

No! This is boxing an an art, boxing for fitness. This is boxing for the fun of it.

What's the use of it? Indispensable for all the liberal professions. Parsons, publicans, politicians, policemen —all whose ways are in the paths of peace—should have the ultimate argumentum ad hominem up their sleeves —the scientific wallop! Where can you get it? Every Monday, 8 p.m. in the Gym.

Who can tell you all about it? Lay hands on B. M. O'Connor, c/o Students' Rack. He will tell all!