Reviewing the last copy of the new "Smad" (the McGhie issue), we see the McGhie revue in extenso: McGhie the Big Executive, McGhie the Romantic, McGhie, the Club-consolidator, McGhie the Neck-or-Nothing-Minus Debater (—1051). We hope to read something about V.U.C. in subsequent issues.

In the Cockpit, he vents the wordy homily anticipated from this Flying Scotchman. For A McG., intellectuals are tinder whereon is struck the spark of genius (these matchless intellectuals!), foundations with towers springing in profusion, and ashes whence phoenices arise. Every Club and Movement is seared by the liquid fire of his oratory. The McGhie will surely go down to history as the whip that cracked o'er Salamanca. All we need at the moment, however, is that he descend from the chill air of his Olympus before he gets still colder feet.

The raspberry for the most useful information in the last issue goes to the experienced Mr. Morpeth, who is his innocence gives this sitter for the matrimonial stakes.

"For the benefit of freshers, the Cafeteria is situated near the Women's Common Room."

From "Smad's" Super Service:

"The students sung the same songs."

Yes whatever they say about these freshers, the yangsters sure are great sungsters.

Not academic freedom but literary license was the chief substance of the book review. About the bones of ideas from a well-known thesis, the writer swathes wrapping with all the skill of the reviewer turned undertaker.

The puny child reaches its majority at the end of the first paragraph—a desperate affair of 21 lines—two sentences—221 adjectives—too much!

And what an off-spring! "It is the puny child of cold thought". Readers are agog to see the [unclear: Planet] Product of Hot Thought from this writer's pen next week.

A windy, though well-meant, review, consigned (like all of us) to the timely sarcophagus of Oblivion.

(It is hoped to make the above column a regular feature for critical comment on the preceding week's issue. Any items from readers will be welcome.—Ed.)

"Winner Take Nothing."

Ernest Hemingway

This book has nothing to do with a local commercial school or the futility of passing exams, but is a volume of short stories of the unconventional type Hemingway is an American consmopolitan with a Latin outlook, and consequently there is no trace of moralisation in his stories. To those unfamiliar with his work, his sustained subjectivity may be a little disconcerting and his staccato style condemned as affectation. A further examination will show, however, that his economy of words is most forcible. The fact that his characters in their utterances confine themselves to single sentences and often repeat themselves, may seem unreal: but there is no denving its significance in driving home the author's point. The slightness, or total back of plot, may be disapproved of on the grounds of obscurity, and in "The Sea Change" the charge would be justifiable, but elsewhere it will have to be conceded that this heightens the effect of realism. This effect is best portrayed in "A Way You'll Never Be"—the revelation of the mind of a shellshock case A vein of sly humour runs through nearly all the stories and in some amounting to subtle irony as exemplified in "The Homage to Switzerland,"—O.A.E.H.

"The stork is a very valuable bird,

Inhabiting all sorts of districts.

Though it doesn't yield plumes

Or sing any tunes.

It helps out with the vital statistics."