Capping Ceremony.

There are so many references, oblique or direct, to this Ceremony on other pages that to say anything more comes perilously close to vain repetitions such as the heathen use. Though it certainly was the quietest ceremony since the world was young, that was not on account of the Depression or "forbidding regulations in regard to public gatherings generally," but that has been said many a time and of.

Mr. P. Levi, the Chairman of the Council, opened the Ceremony before a packed house, and Professor Hunter conferred the degrees. The main address was spoken by the Mayor, who showed his usual sympathetic understanding of students and their incomprehensible hearts, and soon had them all on his side.

The undergrads. were loudly delighted to learn that the Professorial Board were the representatives of "mature and chaste wisdom," while the undergrade. (get this, lads!) represented the eternal spirit of unrest, and thereby a foundation for progress.

The Mayor hasn't forgotten that he was once an undergraduate himself; he. as much as anyone, enjoyed the unrehearsed grand climax to his anecdote about the Maori who passed through a tunnel for the first time : "when the train dashed from the darkness into the sunlight once more—"—the Mayor was saying—"Py korry, to-morrow!" roared a jubilant chorus from the left wing.

The College songs were not marvellously well sung, due perchance to the separation of the undergrads. (singing allegretto) and the Graduates (singing stately adagio) on opposite sides of the hall, with a trail connecting link of Flower Girls between.

Stray snatches of humour flecked the conferring of the degrees; while the bouquets presented to the girl graduates were ravishing and quite comme il faut, those bestowed on a few fortunate men were rather more appetising than decorative, and quite "comme il throw" to judge by their fate. With a prodigal hand (largesse, largesse!) Mr. H. J. Bishop cast the kitchen garden's best in the visor of the donor; never biff a gift horse in the mouth, Bish!

Several others received tributes that would have made any vegetarian's mouth water, while Mr. Tyer got a worn-out product of Micheliu; what a chance to "make hoopee" at the Capping Ceremony!

Whatever may be said about the general sedateness of the Ceremony, this was the best guarantee that the Ceremony will not henceforth be hurtled into the limbo of discarded rituals.

The Ball.

A long "write-up" of a Ball is usually a tissue of platitudes or a schedule of creations worn by "Store of Indies whose bright eyes," and soon—and so on.—

As for the dresses, our impression is a kaleidoscopic array of colour and Parisian splendour, but to particularise—never! As for the rest, the more enjoyable the ball the fewer details one hears, for those who have the best time say the least about it. For the information of those who weren't there, the Ball was held at the Masonic Hall; for the information of those who were there—but there was no beer, Ho their memories won't need jogging. Talking of beer, there was a suggestion from someone bright that an expert committee should preside over the buffet, testing all beverages with litmus paper! Gone are the days!

But for all that:, the Ball was very enjoyable. After all, it's the girls who make the show.

Undergraduates' Supper.

For some peculiar reason the Undergrads' Sup per is usually the most successful function of Capping. Extravs may vary between sensational success and the merely boring ami Capping Balls may l>t enjoyable or merely uneventful, but the Under graduates' Supper continues on its triumphant way Why this should be so is a mystery, for consider the programme—speeches, sundry items, a little dancing perhaps, and only incidentally something to eat. Whatever the reason, this year's Undergrads' Supper was even more enjoyable than its predecessors. Without exception all the speeches were much better than usual. There was a really friendly atmosphere about the whole show which helped the speakers, but in any case Messrs Arndt and P. J. Smith certainly surprised us. P. J. spoke with moving sincerity when proposing the toast of Absent Friends, and it was evident from the manner in which the chorus of the same name was sung that the right atmosphere had been created. Joey Mountjoy surprised us with an evidently intimate knowledge of his subject, "The Ladies." The speeches of Professors Gould and Cornish and of our President certainly made us realise that the life of an executive person is not a happy one, for, as Mr. von. Zedlitz pointed out, such a person must be an all-rounder. Interspersed with the flow of oratory were two excellent songs by Newton Goodson. a monologue by the indefatigable Mountjoy, and two items by Redmond Phillips. It must be admitted that "Do Something Stark" caused consternation in the camp of the Christians, but it was certainly the hit of the evening. Helen Dunn's neat reply to the toast of the Ladies closed the more important part of the evening, and the party then adjourned to Phyllis Bates's studio and an off-colour panatrope. However, even under this handicap the mad whirl continued until the last reveller wended his reluctant steps homeward via the Terrace or Wadestown or wherever She lived.

The Revue.

The best for many a year, with youth at the prow and pleasure at the helm. In place of the usual Extrav., wielding like a snake its slow length along, a stroke of genius decided on a Revue of three short comedies—"Dry Rot." "Souled." and "Coax and Hoax."

The last received a wonderful ovation from the audiences, and enthusiastic press appreciation. Though all three were presented under noms de plume, the press discovered in Redmond Phillips the author of "Coax and Hoax," and lauded him to the skies. Macte virtute puer! However, in spite of the lukewarm press reception of "Dry Rot," we feel that as a play it was by no means weak—it was exceedingly clever, though it was not as well acted as "Coax and Hoax," and the audience missed much of the humour through insufficiently clear enunciation by one or two of the cast. "Souled" was a masterpiece of subtle wit, and the very fact of its presentation is proof enough that a Professor is a sport.

On the following Saturday a fourth presentation of the Revue was given for the Mayor's Fund for the unemployed.

The outstanding success of the Revue was very largely flue to the tireless energy of the producers. Messrs W. J. Mountjoy, jr., D. G. Edwards, and one who, we are given to understand, preferred to hide her light under an anonymous bushel.

The way of Producers is hard.