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The Crime



In this age of reckless youth the exponents of authority and prestige are rarely caught endangering their reputations. Age must always balance youth by setting a good example. Even in Harvard temerity is one quality not courted by a professor. Weighted as he is by books and degrees, not to mention years, and redolent of the musty archives of Widener, he generally escapes the prankster proclivity. He, no more than the fun-loving undergraduates, can afford to have his name in the paper in a scandalous fashion. Thus it was with some surprise that the students in History 60a learned yesterday there would be no Friday lecture owing to an appointment of Professor Morison, unwillingly made--to be sure, with the Roxbury Police Court.

The adage is true that one must go abroad to hear news of home. Stories of big week-ends drift back slowly; and viewed from the calm comfort of sobriety, incidents which were heartbreakingly disappointing are not without their tinges of humour.

Among the dignified Harvard Seniors who arrived in New Haven a day early on the occasion of the football game in order, it was reported, to attend lectures and make general investigations into the functionings of Yale University, was a young man who felt his oats. Apparently he reached the conclusion that there were other things to do in New Haven beside attending lectures, for early evening found him in the company of two young ladies and a Yale man wending his way toward Waterbury, all in the condition which a cliche expert would describe as squifty.

The object of the trip to Waterbury has not been determined, but those taking it have declared there seemed to be a very good reason at the time. After cruising around the square, and scraping acquaintance with the policeman of that village, the Harvard man suddenly decided he would die if he did not get a drink of water immediately. The car was stopped. He ran to a drinking fountain in the square, walked around it several times, stopped and stared. The paternal cop who had been observing the group for some time took him by the arm and led him slowly back to the car. "That ain't no drinking fountain, son" he said quietly. "That's a statue of Timothy Dwight."

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