If the freshmen insist upon celebrating their transition state by the customary hints to citizens in regard to side-walks, etc., we think we cannot do better than call their attention to a wretched collection of rotten planks which lie along the fence on Division Street, not far from William.

The local police force has always been fair game for the students, a position "he" (to use the long-standing quip) did not always appreciate. Gatherings of students in the streets were at one time looked upon with great disfavor, while the daily "rushes" at the old post-office, before the days of carrier delivery, were particularly prolific sources of trouble. The office before 1882 was especially inconvenient, and when the officers, warned by previous trouble, proposed to allow students to enter only one at a time, which meant that many would go without their mail, a disturbance threatened at once, and several were arrested. The next night matters proved even more serious; the fire-bell called out the state militia, who charged with fixed bayonets and wounded several persons. A dozen students were jailed indiscriminately but no one could be found to prefer charges the following morning. Suits for false imprisonment were brought against the city and mayor but were eventually discontinued on the advice of Judge Cooley.

In November, 1890, even more serious trouble arose following another series of arrests for post-office "rushing." During the evening sounds of rifle shots were heard, and the students, already excited, scented more trouble. They gathered in a great crowd in front of the house where the firing had occurred but found that it was only a wedding celebration. Then, with characteristic good nature, they called for a speech, but their intentions were misinterpreted, and when the militia, who had attended the wedding in a body, marched out the students followed them with jokes and jeers. Finally the militiamen lost patience and charged with clubbed guns, and one quiet student who had been apparently only a spectator, was felled to the ground and afterward died of his injury. The sergeant in charge of the soldiers was also seriously injured. In this instance the students were guilty of nothing but noise, while the militia were acting entirely contrary to the law. Nevertheless, though eight men were arrested, the blame could not be fixed on any one man. The Governor of the State, however, disbanded the company for its unsoldierly conduct.

Along the Huron
A glimpse of Ann Arbor's park system

While the growth of the University of late years would suggest a corresponding increase in such troubles as have been described, the actual development has been quite otherwise, and serious clashes between students and townsfolk have been very rare in recent years. There have, it is true, been occasional raids on street-cars and signs; students have been arrested for playing ball on the streets; and sometimes political meetings have been disturbed. One of the most amusing incidents of this character was an address given by W.J. Bryan in 1900 from the portico of the Court House. Wild cheering greeted him as he rose to speak, which lasted for at least fifteen minutes. At first he was obviously greatly flattered; then he began to suspect something was not quite right and majestically raised his hand for silence. Instantly every student waved his hand in response, and the exchange was continued for some time. Meanwhile the police force was busy dragging off to jail any unlucky student on the outskirts of the crowd they could lay hands on. When the speaker was at length able to make himself heard his first words, somewhat unfortunate under the circumstances, were, "If I were an imperialist I would call out an army to suppress you. But I am not."

It may be said, therefore, that in spite of these occasional troubles the relations between town and gown have been on the whole surprisingly normal and friendly when we consider that at present over one-fourth of the total population of Ann Arbor during term-time is composed of students. This cordial relationship is undoubtedly fostered by the fact that all the men and many of the women outside the fraternities, live in rooms rented from the townspeople. The extent to which this system has developed is probably unique in any American university of the same size. Only very recently has there been any modification of the tradition, in the erection of women's dormitories and a promise of similar buildings for the men.

While this arrangement is not ideal in many ways, for the students do not always secure the clean and attractive quarters they are properly entitled to have, it has been undoubtedly a great advantage to the University in relieving it of the expense and trouble of maintaining dormitories, at a time when every dollar of resources, to say nothing of the energies of the officers, was necessary to maintain the University's work. It is only natural, however, that many disputes between students and landladies should arise, particularly when the rooming and boarding houses are not supervised by the University: This is the case with the men. For some time the women in the University have been allowed to live only in approved rooming houses. The Health Service has also undertaken to inspect all the student boarding houses in an effort to ensure wholesome food and to maintain a definite standard of cleanliness.

Whatever the minor sources of friction that have arisen between the students and townsfolk of Ann Arbor, however, the substantial friendliness of the citizens and their pride in the University have always been one of its great assets through its years of development. The promoters of the hastily organized land company through whose efforts Ann Arbor was made the site of the future University builded better than they knew. Their venture was probably not a particularly profitable one, for the rapid growth they had expected did not materialize. But their prompt action and foresight assured the institution a normal and healthy environment comparatively free from political and commercial influences. There are, undoubtedly, certain advantages which come to the modern university in a larger city, which becomes in a way a laboratory for various forms of scientific investigation; but the disadvantages are no less obvious. The life of the students becomes more complicated; social distractions and amusements are apt to offer too great temptations; the simplicity of academic life is lost; while the personal relations between Faculty and student become more perfunctory. Thus by her very situation Michigan has been able to retain, in spite of her extraordinary growth in recent years, something of that fine flavor of college life which has always been the essence of our best academic traditions.