Pro Tutor 'Good Deal' for Student Willing to Spend Money, Not Time

Crimed in Disguise Buys 'B' in History

A short, heavy-set Harvard alumnus with gray hair and a Phi Beta Kappa key has been spoon-feeding me History 32a for a little over a month new. He is a professional tutor.

For any undergraduate who would rather spend money than time on his course work, and who has more social engagements than scruples, professional tutoring is a Good Deal. I say this with a certain degree of authority, because for twenty dollars and six hours work I got a B plus in an hour exam covering one third of a term's material.

News Leaks Out

When the CRIMSON learned on December 2 that Lester Cramer was trying to revive the lucrative trade he enjoyed before the war, the editors decided to send a man around to investigate.

The idea was for a CRIMSON representative, in the guise of a harried undergraduate, to find out from actual experience the workings of the postwar tutoring school, and to evaluate, also from experience, its services.


Such a guinea pig, of course, would have to have an air of freshman-like innocence and a convincingly slight knowledge of nineteenth-century European history, so I set to work at once. The letter which Cramer had sent to a College club was necessarily vague, so the first stop was to phone the number on the letterhead for further information.

I dialed C-A-7-1-0-4-7.

"Cramer, speaking." The voice was smooth, low-pitched and non-committal.

"I'd like to find out about, UN, getting some tutoring in a European history course I'm taking," I said.

On the Hend

"You mean History 32?" the voice asked.

Since there are about half a dogen European history courses being given here this term, this seemed little less than paychie.

I continued. "Well then, I guess you know they're having an hour exam next Tuesday. Anyhow, I haven't done any of the reading for it in fact, I haven't been to the lectures for about six weeks. Can you help me out."

He assured me he could, in five or six hours of tutoring, but I would have to see him some morning, since he was "all filled up" for the next few afternoons. I agreed to this, as well as to his fee of five dollars an hour, and he gave me an appointment for the next morning at ten, in the name of "David Murray."

Since my real name appears two or three times a week in the CRIMSON masthead, and might be expected to draw something less than an open-argued welcome from such an old enemy of the papers a "nom deserve" was necessary.