The Capping celebrations were, on the whole, fairly satisfactory this year, and various functions were carried through successfully. As an entertainment for and a Reunion of Old Students, however, they left much to be desired. In the first place, the dates decided on made it impossible for many teachers, who had fully expected to be here, to take part. On the other hand, the present students were so busily engaged in the production of the Extravaganza and in the completing of the arrangements for the Procession and the Ball that they had little or no time left for the renewal of old friendships and the forming of new ones with students who have left behind but not forgotten their College days.

Capping

The Capping ceremony this year might be summed up in one word—disgraceful. The function was held at 3.30 p.m. on the same day as the Capping procession. Thus we treated "Wellington to two disgraceful exhibitions in one day.

The Concert Chamber of the Town Hall was well filled with the friends of the graduates and the College. Some undergraduates were also present, and it is rumoured that one of them made an interjection during the performance. At the appointed hour the graduates of the year (some of them) trooped in in single file, much after the style of the Haeremai Club when painting the town red. The spectacle was not marred by uniformity in the manner of wearing the hoods; this was done purposely by the responsible members of the Graduates' Association and the Professorial Board, who so keenly helped the new graduates with their make-up. Most shocking of all was the singing. While we may not be able to reach a high pitch of enthusiasm over the quality of our College songs, we must not show our dreadful secret by refusing to learn them. The attempts at harmony displayed on this occasion were simply appalling. Why had there been no practice? Everybody was too busy with the Extravaganza, that colossal undertaking which this year has strangled all College spirit and substituted the spirit of the Banking House.

The Chairman of the College Council (Mr. Watson), in one of his usual endless speeches, told of the high percentage of casualties amongst University men in the great war. Then one by one the graduates of the year wended their way towards the stage, carefully wriggling through a barrage of chairs and skilfully avoiding page 49 the piano, till at last they spied a small flight of steps. A hurried ascent to the stage, an exchange of handgrips with the Bishop of Wellington, a hurried descent, another scramble towards oblivion, and the presentation was over. The Bishop acknowledged it a great honour to be shown to the graduates, whom he congratulated. He then gave an address on imagination, which well served to show that impromptu speakers never err on the score of brevity. Following the practise of the local vaudeville the event of the day was placed last. A striking contrast to all that had preceded it was the rare treat given by Professor Newton, Rhodes Professor of History at the University of London. As an example of eloquence and force his speech must have inspired even the members of our Debating Society.

Now it is quite evident that our Capping ceremony has degenerated into a nuisance. The graduates do not want it, the undergraduates are quite indifferent, and the Professorial Board does not seem exactly enthusiastic. Let us therefore remember the motto of Wellington—Follow Auckland.

"The Dogs"

The delightfully fizzy sensation of going to "The Dogs" is now a memory pigeon-holed away somewhere in the cerebral centres or relegated to the limbo of lost but unforgotten things. Our Extravaganza was the success of the year. Cabaret, camp and election- mart mingled joyfully amidst a blare of trumpets so pulse-stirring that "The Reveille" which followed many months after seemed like the wailing notes of the "Last Post." For two whole nights, Folly trod on the heels of Youth and Merriment on the corns of Time, and everyone "went gay."

To those of us who entered the theatre, as nescient as at our nativity, the foreword gave some idea of the pot pourri that was to follow. Parliament was to cut its way through the jungle of the ages. As the piece progressed, the idea developed—which is not usually the case in such productions as these. The interest of the audience was caught and—what is better still—held from the excellent rendering of the considerably modified "Prologue to Pagliacci" until the final lowering of the curtain. Parliament typified in 2020 A.D. as a palace of kicking legs and popping corks is a prospect that throws out definite hope for the future. Of the four scenes this was easily the most successful. As a spectacle, superb. Nothing could be more artistic than a black-and-white colour scheme carried into effect, and this effect was well sustained by the somewhat alluring frequenters of the Cabaret. The first act, also—that taking place in the vicinity of Sherwood Forest— made an effective opening and the slaughtering of Simon de Montfort provided not a little amusement. Acts II. and III. tended at times towards the wearisome. Politicians, on the platform or in the House, are generally too lacking in individualism to make good subject-matter for humour.

Digressing for a moment from the reviewing of the revue, let me say a word about histrionic talent. Mr. Mazengarb did not disappoint us. Indeed, he and Lady Blastor shared the honours of the evening. As "officah" and "The Right Henry" he swaggered as ungracefully and warbled as untunefully as circumstances demanded. Mr. E. Rishworth, who played Lady Blastor, had a more difficult role to fill. He showed himself to be a master of the page 50 art of coquetry, and caused as great a flutter as the Prince when he arrived on the scene. Without this talented lady the act would have been rather flat Premier (Miss H. Easterfield) cut a very dashing figure and fully convinced the audience that not only could she sing but also that she believed all the words of her song, "How we put them in their place." The air "Take a Pair of Sparkling Eyes" was singularly inappropriate, mais n'importe! The Prince of Wales (Mr. W. Watkins) fully played to "the dear boy, so unspoiled by popularity" that he was. I am forced to confess that his acting and dancing are more reliable than his voice, which has a tendency to lose its way as it ascends. Sir Simon (Mr. P. M. Smith) and Sir James (Mr. K. Low) both acted well; I predict a great future for the former if he pursues his military career more assiduously. But lest we forget! Misses A Cooke and R. Horsley looked very charming and sang very sweetly in the opening to Act IV., and what more can we expect?

Now, what of general impressions! I am not going into comparisons because I am not an archaeologist, and leave the past to the author of "The Golden Bough." The show, taking everything all round, was a triumph of spectacularism, and gained in magnificence what it lost on the vocal side. The choruses showed up the absentees from the practices, and consequently did not afford as much satisfaction as they otherwise might have done. Yet, where is the humour of yesteryear? Where the side-shows? Raid the Cabaret, run a tote in Parliament, do anything to raise a real, hearty, democratic laugh instead of this titter from the intellectual, who, for the most part, would smile at anything.

Finally, let me say that whatever praise is due must be apportioned also amongst the members of the orchestra (the conductor, Mr. W. H. Stainton, in particular), the six "trippers of the light fantastic," Miss M. Richmond, and, last but not least, Mr. E. Evans, who threw himself heart and soul into making "The Dogs" as great a success financially as otherwise. That he succeeded in both no one will attempt to deny. Were he not so shy and unassuming I should say a great deal more, but he knows it all already, and so there you are.

Lew.

Capping Ball

The Bull was held it; the Town Hall on a brilliant evening. The hall was brightly decorated and a gay and festive throng strove to keep time to a one-step (which some of them sometimes confused with a fox-trot) whenever their lengthy stay at supper would permit them. Altogether a successful evening—successful financially also, as someone was hoard to remark, with an accent of surprise. Extravaganza over, the dancers suffered not from stage fright, as in the preceding year, nor did the strains of Good-bye" according to Tosti provoke pictures of St. Thomas Aquinas and the sordid stake. The alcoves were crowded with intellectual eminences, and the Town Hall had never held so many brilliant people since Mr. Oakley Browne's summer campaign. Do congratulate all concerned with the arrangements, which were a decided advance on 1919, and hope they may officiate again.

Wanted to Sell, full-size extension Dining-room Table and Perambulator.—"Evening Post." An original combination of two necessary evils.

Memorial Stone Reunion

Punctually at 11.30 a.m. on Friday, 14th May, His Excellency the Governor-General, Lord Liverpool, arrived at College to lay the War Memorial stone in the new wing.

The weather was so stormy that the attendance was extremely poor. Lord Liverpool delivered a short speech, in which, after expressing sympathy with the friends of the fallen, he paid a fine tribute to the work of our Universities.

"We have been told many times that one of the chief contributory causes to the success of the system of British education is the fact that our learning consists of two portions—one that seeks to inculcate into the mind the knowledge which is derived by the study of books and research, and the other which fills the spirit with the true attributes of manliness, so that the nation may raise up citizens worthy of the heritage handed down by those who have suffered much that our people should live under the free institutions which have become the watchword of our race. To-day, therefore, we commemorate the work of men who never forgot what they had learnt amid the calm which the times of peace bring to those who pass their early years in our halls of learning. . . . Work hard and play hard is a good combination; leave out one and the other becomes abortive. Their joint union means the comradeship which has been so apparent during the years of war, and which is even more necessary if we are to overcome the period of unrest and difficulty which the struggle has forced upon the world."

The Luncheon

The Luncheon at the Y.M.C.A. Rooms was probably as enjoyable as any of the Reunion functions. The attendance was good; indeed, the room was overcrowded, and the programme was carried out successfully. A true Reunion atmosphere pervaded the scene, an air of brightness and a happy recollection of good old times. Mr. G. G. G. Watson was in the chair. After the toast of "The King" had been drunk, Sir Robert Stout, the Chancellor of the University of New Zealand, proposed "Victoria University College," a toast celebrated with great enthusiasm. Mi Clement Watson replied.

Professor Kirk then proposed "Past Students," and after the singing of "Absent Friends" Professor Robertson replied.

"The Graduates of the Year" was proposed by the chairman. The chorus, "Here Come the Graduates," followed, and Miss Fenton, M.Sc., and Mr. G. W. Morice, B.Sc., replied on behalf of the graduates.

The last toast on the list, "The Professors and Staff, Past and Present," was proposed by the President of the Students' Association, Mr. Mansfield, and replied to by Professor Sommerville. The singing of "Just One Stave More" concluded a bright and successful luncheon.

Wanted, men for Nursery Work.—"Evening Post." A "Plunket Society" medallist should meet the case. How about applying, Wilf?