As bulletins issue out of Stillman Infirmary reporting the fall of forty-five odd students in the past two days, all struck down by a mysterious digestive disorder, the University hygiene officials are at a loss to explain the sudden advent of plague in the college. For although the victims have recovered with almost as much speed as they were taken ill, the infection has defied the best medical detectives, and despite the care with which the University surrounds the preparation of food, the causes of the plague remain unfathomed.
Actually Harvard puts more emphasis on sanitary conditions in its kitchens than any similar institution. Care is taken not only to guard the food itself, by buying from firms of known repute and subjecting the purchases to frequent chemical analyses to prove their worth, but also the staff mit to regular examinations. Yet even the most who cook and serve in the halls are made to sub-modern scientific precautions have failed to protect the University at all times, and infections like the present one have inevitably crept in.
In commenting on the situation, Dr. Bock has called attention to the lightness of the attack and the quick recovery of those who suffered. While the burden of suspicion falls on veal and ice-cream served in the Union, the lack of definite bacteriological evidence make any attempt to fix the blame extremely difficult. Thus, with the University doing all in its power to protect the food from contaminating influences, all the student can do when the plague strikes is to screw his courage to the sticking place and hope it strikes somebody else.