THE CRIME

In these troubled times, when all one reads about in the newspapers are accounts of wars and outrages and sudden death, and when life is made miserable by the noises in Harvard Square, and the horn tooting on Plympton Street after the population has gone to sleep--or rather tried to--we often lose faith in the goodness of human nature. But yesterday something happened that restored our belief in the essential nobility of human-kind.

Strolling down Boylston Street on our way to Soldiers Field we pased the service entrance of the dinning hall system. There, coming out after their mid-day duties, were two young ladies whom we recognized as belonging to the Elephant House. One of them was clutching the other to keep from falling, dissolved in gales of laughter. The others face, too, wreathed in a broad grin. We watched for a moment, fascinated. Finally the laughing one sobered a bit.

"Oh, Sadie," she said. "You should na ha' told me that. Ye know I'm a good girl."