Results.

We congratulate:—

A.U.C., winners of the Tournament Shield, the Basketball Shield, and joint winners of the Swimming Contest.

O.U., winners of the Boxing Shield, and joint winners of the Swimming Contest.

C.U.C., winners of the Athletic Shield, the Tennis Shield, and joint iwnners of the Swimming Contest

"Ourselves," winners of the Haslam and Hebberley Shields.

We congratulate the following V.U.C. Representatives:—

F. S. Ramson: Winner of the 440yds Hurdles and Putting 16lb Shot.

D. W. A. Barker: Winner of Long Jump.

W C. Hart: Winner of Feather-weight Boxing Contest.

We understand that A.U.C., O.U., and C.U.C. also competed.

The following were awarded New Zealand University Blues.

F. S. Ramson (Athletics). D. W. A. Barker (Athletics), W. C. Hart (Boxing), P. Meakin (Shooting), D. Gane (Rowing), W. J. Kemp (Rowing).

A Resume.

When we sailed on Wednesday. April 1st, numbered about sixty, only half-a-dozen travelling with the team as barrackers. About thirty more were there to cheer us on our way, carolling beer songs, hakas, and College yells from a point of vantage on the Ferry Wharf. An emotional lull followed the casting of the bow-line, the tension being broken by Ray. Reardon, who called in stricken tones to his old friend, our ex-secretary: "Oh, Charlie-Don't forget to write to me!"

The Auckland team was aboard, and the chanting of hakas and the munching of biscuits helped to pass away the evening. A young gentleman from the steerage with a portable gramaphone, a spotted cap, smart lumber jacket, and wearing a beer bottle jauntily in his hip-pocket, spent a mutually exhausting half-hour beseeching the Victorian women to start a dance going. John Macduff, who throughout the trip was just like a father to us, all fearing that they might possibly weaken, prevailed upon the lad to seek another hunting ground.

The passage was fair, and everyone looked fit: and happy when assembled with the rest of the passengers on the main stairway the following morning. John was at his best, instructing Charlie to straighten his tie, Bishop to hold his head up and to look pleasant. He even took the ball and gave the basketball team a short practice over the heads of passengers. One of them whispered to her companions that John was The Father. Charlie, Bish, and Joey and the rest were probably The Children. John kept the ship amused with badinage and by recounting a few racy selections from his vast repertoire of anecdotes.

Canterbury College.

On arriving in Christchurch we were stowed into taxis and whirled off to the College, where we were the guests of the Students' Union at breakfast in a large, well-appointed sunny dining-room. We inspected the College, appreciating the atmosphere of tranquility that pervaded the cloisters and grey ivied walls, and the appearance of the lawns in the fresh, dewy morning.

Our Arrival.

We were welcomed by many hundreds of Otago students at the station with an awesome aggregation of melodious and frenzied raucous and tumultuous hakas. The welcome in Allen Hall on Good Friday was followed by afternoon tea, where the Tournament veterans greeted the old stagers from other Colleges, and many old friendships were renewed.

The Tournament

On Saturday morning the Tennis preliminaries were played on both the University and the Otago courts. We did not shine, however; but the Boat Race in the afternon, perhaps the most exciting of all the events, restored our faith in Victoria.

Several hundred citizens collected on the wharf nearest the starting post, running with the barrackers from the four Colleges to the finishing post beside the oarsmen. They thundered down the wharves like a cavalcade, hats and arms flying, cheering wildly. John, with fine presence of mind, leapt on the running-board of someone's car, completely blocking out the view of the race for its occupants, howling frantically for Victoria. Our crew appeared to be just as fresh as they had been previous to the race, and we congratulate them warmly once again.

Boxing.

This item of the itinerary took place at His Majesty's Theatre, the various hakas, with one outstanding and regrettable exception, showing to great effect in the Dress Circle. Although our haka failed to amuse isolated Victorians and the women of the team, it provided for the personnel of the other Colleges perhaps one of the brightest interludes of the evening. It started raggedly, yammered, got out of step, faltered, blushed, trailed off miserably, and sat down. The sight of our President, Mr. Rollings, and of our Mr. Mountjoy, executing totally incorrect gestures, and using wrong accents in the front row of the Dress Circle, was sufficient to turn us all grey. Everyone else laughed heartily.

An Otago undergraduate amused us all wandering disconsolately for some time along the rows of seats peering into every face, asking in vain for "Eve." He had apparently missed Eve, or else Eve had missed him, but harboured the impression that she was playing hide and seek with him in the Circle.

"Where is Eve?" he asked, selecting his words very carefully. "I cannot find Eve anywhere. Has no one seen Eve anywhere to-night? I am sure I saw her over here."

"She's been dead for years," said Reg. Larkin. "Come and sit down."

"You can't kid me," said the lad, violently, some time later "I saw her over here." He set out on another pilgrimage.

It may have been a coincidence, but at that moment someone with that name, someone who had been sitting immediately behind him for some time, hurriedly left the theatre.

A wild young student from Manaia, sitting on the stage at the ringside, Joe Christie provided an opportunity for much gentle banter during the evening.

"We see you, Joe!" called his friends in unison. Joe steadied himself, and manfully attempted a bow, page 11 doing a few odd movements of a haka for luck before sinking back.

"I bet you can't see us. Joe!" called someone with sudden intuition.

The Drive.

On the programme, Sunday morning was reserved for attendance at "any good Church." We had ample choice, for every second edifice in Dunedin is either a Religious House, a Dental Parlour, or an Hotel. In the afternoon we drove over the hills in limousines and buses, and despite many perilous moments reached Cargill's Castle in safety. The fact that only 150 invitations had been extended and a good 300 people arrived did not spoil the catering operations, and Sunday afternoon was one of the most enjoyable of the week.

Monday.

The Basketball was played off. Auckland winning two matches and Victoria and Otago one each. The Athletic Sports started on the University Oval at 11 o'clock. We had bad luck on several occasions, but no one begrudged Canterbury their Victory. Victoria was missing when the Tug-o'-war was announced. Someone explained that the team had "gone home."

Swimming.

This innovation was for the second time, so far as Victoria was concerned, a miserable failure. Our representatives at the finish, if they were still in the water, were generally well over a lap behinb [sic]. Swimming at V.U.C. must be encouraged.

The Tepid Baths were packed, the air hot, the noise appaling, the visibility nil the lighting and seating accommodation most inadequate, and the man with the megaphone indistinct, but generally inaudible. No attempt was made to keep to the programme, few of the competitors were colours, and every race seemed to be a sixty-six and two thirds yards Open Handicap. Everyone cheered impartially and continuously, while the Megaphone was hiding the M.C.'s face, and his announcements would be followed by a mixed haka from the assembly and a splash as another beer bottle on programme was thrown into the water.

A pitiful attempt to enliven the proceedings was made by a few comedians, who fought feebly with each other oil two top-heavy pontoons.

At 9.35, in company with many others, we left them to it.

Afterwards a dance was held, and from all acocunts [sic] it stands out in relief as one of the high lights of the Tournament. Bishop, apparently one of the few men still able to control his major movement at 3 a.m., was in charge of the Knox College Delivery. It was his especial mission to see that all Knox students left lying about the deserted hallways were landed over to their friends before bleakfast. Bishop's memory is still hazy, but he recalls certain oft-crossed fences and ditches, and a number of ineffectual attempts to reach his own hearthstone afterwards, before he met perhaps the only taxi-driver in the City with those high intellectual faculties appropriate to the occasion.

Tuesday.

The Tennis Finals and the Ball were held, the festivities running well over into Wednesday.

The story of the train journey back is dealt with elsewhere. Next year the Tournament will be held (D.V.) in Wellington, where, although hndicapped by fewer facilities, we shall try to return the hospitality we have enjoyed in the other centres

The New Woman.

(A Series of genuine interviews "Smad" is having with prominent women of the College).

No. 3.—Miss Aileen Davidson, on "A Still Small Voice"

Miss Davidson perched herself on the end of the table. "So this is where 'Smad" is brewed, is its you do do yourselves well. Even being connected with a rag like this has its compensations." She twirled her red bow-tie.

"What do you think of Bannister" we asked, touching the matter nearest her heart. You talk and we'll write.

"Bannister I think Bannister is a Low Type. I think Bannister has the most meagre brain equipment ever bestowed on man I think he's positively the lowest form of life. That—is what I think of Bannister. I dislike his views on absolutely every single matter, and I think he's the punkest debater who has ever blurbed and yammered upon our platform. He's been here ever since the war ended, and everything he says and writes has been written or said by some other student years ago. Rehash. But he's not so much worse than the rest of the poor-spirited, seedy-looking, illstarred rabble that overrun this place either. There must be something in the atmosphere that contaminates the men students. They're all right in the city —tall, thrilling-looking people, with pipes, and so on, but look at what we have here! A swarm of helpless pip-squeaks, with home-made cigarettes banning out of their mouths. No. I have no heart at all— it was shredded years ago. Brookey is the only decent man I ever talk to here, apart from a few of the legal fraternity. No, I have no hobbies. Debating I regard as a mission. Someone must watch Bannister and keep him in his place.

My only great passion in life is hockey, and I've just been put on the Committee. That's why I'm all for the College of Electors now. Watson? I think he's too bumptious. The first time I heard him speak last year, I had to laugh outright. He gave me the impression he had been a bit of a poohbah at his school Debating Society, and had come up here to show us what was what. The Editor? Oh, she's too self-sufficient and aloof—never seems to feel the need of the comfort of the Herd. Julia Dunn? Oh, she's just the same, and Julia thinks I belong to the Outer Darkness. Joey Mountjoy? Joey is a dear—so soulful anl pure white I've just discovered that Joey is susceptible to the feminine influence. Goodson? I've not noticed him beyond his motor-car.

"You know I'd like to be a Vampire—a Siren, and lure everyone to destruction; but what could a siren do on a barren waste like this. Politics? I'm red-hot Conservatism, I believe in keeping the masses well heeled under. I'd like to lead a movement some day, and go into Parliament and clean things up. No. I have no complexes, except perhaps my red bow-ties. They express my personality, and if you have a personality why not express it?

"Say I am more fond of the Devil than of God, and always have been. I don't hold conversations with him though, as they do in books. You can tell the Athletic Club that the Inter-Faculty Sports were the lowest form of human entertainment I've ever viewed, and don't alter anything. Is there room for another short description of Ralph Bannister? What a shame. I'II keep it for the next debate, then. Oh. well. I'll tootle off now. Goodbye!"

By The Way.

Will Mr. W. P. Rollings deny the impeachment levelled by the Tournament Team regarding his energetic attempts in Dunedin to out-Don Mr Priestley as the Universal Lover?

Mr. C. S Plank must confess that he realised at the time the top deck of the S.S. Wahine was hardly the site for a Strephon and Phyllis idyll, but that rural facilities were not available.

Fortunately Miss Eileen Plank's luggage, which was put off at Oamaru, en route to Dunedin, was forwarded just before she reboarded the train on Saturday. Miss Plank had reluctantly decided to spend her holiday in Oamaru with her luggage.

Did Miss Isoebl Morice discover the reason it was arranged she should not dance with McGavin, Major at the Tournament Ball?

Mr. C. N. Goodson will shortly announce that he has decided to take up tennis instead of sprinting, and that he will specialise in mixed doubles. He commenced training immediately after the Ball last Wednesday morning.

Mr. Macduff described himself on his billeting sheet as a "shy, retiring, unsophisticated lad." His reply to the query on Religion was "unsatisfactory."