A Harvard-Yale contest of any kind scorns introduction. Even when Yale worsts the University at chess in the seclusion of a New York hotel, the defeat is mourned by many who do not know a pawn from a rook. No one need be urged to attend the hockey game tonight; but a reminder that the contest is not yet won, and that whole-heared support from the University is essential, is not amiss.

Yale has thus far passed a highly successful season, playing in a manner which leaves no doubt as to the strength of her team,--especially in the forward line. Yale is undefeated, with a possible championship in view. The University, on the other hand, has already lost to Dartmouth, and can at the most hope only for a tie at the end of the season. In other words, we have less at stake tonight than Yale. While beating a New Haven team is glory enough in itself to call forth the best efforts of the University seven, yet tonight's contest is harder for Harvard than it would be with the circumstances reversed.

This being the case, a very small margin may decide the outcome. While it can hardly be demonstrated in any given case that vociferous cheering has won victory, yet there have undoubtedly been numerous contests in which the enthusiasm of the spectators has swung the tide. Robustly audible support from the stands shows a team that it is not fighting altogether alone, nor altogether for itself--makes its best a little better. Behind the players is something more powerful than they,--the University.

The cheering in the Arena thus far has always been unorganized, and often uninspiring. Partly due to the haphazard allotment of seats, and partly to the lack of leadership, the students have not come forth with substantial proof of support. It is devoutly to be wished that tonight, when two teams meet very evenly matched, this defective backing may not be in evidence. If the contest is to be won, it looks as though victory were partly up to the University, and not alone to the team.