major part of their time rearranging the books out of sight so that they can never be found in less than three-quarters of an hour. The library, too, is acoustically near perfect. Students pursue a variety of papers, all of which are marked by learning off archaic interpretations by rote. No one dares question the assumptions of the lecturer, who seldom invites disagreement with his ideas or with the status quo. The encouragement of original thinking by a few stimulating people is more than counter-balanced by the frustration the students see in these men, who are usually thwarted and unsatisfied in their academic ambitions. But who cares, as long as the great steamroller of equality rolls merrily along paving everybody down smooth ? When tired with all this, the students seek refuge in that incense-perfumed bordello known as the Common Room. There they may be seen staking their future earnings at Trentham on games of chance such as kick-the-head-that-opens-the-locker and chase-the-women-with-crude-remarks. Smoking is permitted, and most young men roll their own cancer or swipe some from their cobber', which is defined as anyone offering cigarettes. American cigarettes are preferred, and many a Japanese seaman has been smuggled through Wikitoria as a student to supply the rest with cigarettes, transistor radios, geisha girls, and free passes for the Japanese Floating Freighter. All catering is supplied from the 'Cafe', a converted bomb shelter specializing in rubber sausages, ersatz coffee made from burnt peanuts, and, thank God, ice-cold Coca-Cola. The University is run