At Capital University

"Lend me ten bucks, Joe."

"Sure, Speed."

Two months later, in the same college dormitory: "Say--er--Speed, haven't got those ten sockos, have yuh?"

"Sorriernell, Joe. Can't do it yet. I'm still flat, punctured, blown-out, busted, broke. No slim blue literature from the Big Squeeze."

Three months later: "Say--er--Speed,can you--"

"Sorriernell, Joe. Can't . . ."

And Joe hates to dun Speed. Speed is his friend, his good old boy friend, perhaps his fraternity brother. The thing goes on. Perhaps Speed never pays him back. Ten dollars isn't much, but it's the principle of the thing. And sometimes these informal loans involve real principal. Then Speed and Joe, once good friends, reach a snarling estrangement. One calls the other "tightwad," "usurer"; is himself called "dead beat," "sponger," "crook," "bummer."

Now if Speed ever does have money of his own, he is most likely to have it when he gets back to college after Christmas. With this in mind, to protect his 500 potential Joes and Speeds from one another and themselves, President Otto Mees of Capital University (Columbus, Ohio) designated one day last week as a holiday. It is to appear in the college calendar annually hereafter, the first Friday after Christmas vacation. On it the students will be expected to pay their debts, collect their loans, among themselves. The edict on this "Debt Limitations Day" made no mention of worried druggists, gasoline venders, mournful hash-housekeepers, candy men, laundresses, Smoke Shoppe proprietors, collegiate outfitters.