THE MAIL

The Harvard Crimson assumes no responsibility for the sentiments expressed by correspondents, and reserves the right to exclude any communication whose publication may for any reason seem undesirable. Except by special arrangement, communications cannot be published anonymously.

To the Editor of the CRIMSON:

As a prospective member of the Business School of Administration, I have read recent criticism of that institution, in your periodical, with a good deal of sorrow. I don't believe that you have all the facts that we have; for instance, take the eclipse. You saw it of course? Although not all of us had the privilege to be among that awe-stricken multitude who stood on tip-toe on the hills of Westerly, there are certain results that go far to convince one that you are quite wrong.

The Business School is doing a great and noble work. Take some of the little known economic effects of the eclipse. They are too numerous to mention and will certainly not all wear away in this generation; but take just one: When the moon slithered across the face of the sun producing darkness, it struck the country districts worst, and particularly the poultry. Hens lay scientifically nowadays; they run on schedule, any interference with their routine being disastrous, as members of the Business School know. Now one of the worst effects of the eclipse was the confusion that it threw among hens. Some were laying: a few had laid, but the vast majority were just getting ready when darkness fell! All laying ceased. The hens, terrified, flew to their roosts in confusion and dismay; remaining in suspense the rest of the day. The egg production for Saturday was frightfully curtailed. Worse, it will take these hens several days to settle down to work again. This cannot but be a catastrophe in the years to come when the eggs that should be laid yesterday, today, and tomorrow, will go on sale. The Business School will prevent that. Its surveys are already in the field. Within a week it will know how many eggs are missing west of the Mississippi. It will calculate when these missing eggs would ordinarily go on sale at certain chain-restaurants. It will know how many flue pullets were eternally dissuaded from saying. It will compute how much money changed pockets during the darkness of the eclipse, and how much the great stores of Boston generously contributed to science by letting their employees free at the time.

The economic effects of the eclipse are incalculable, or would be were it not for the patient, brave, unassuming work of Business School students. It might continue, but I am sure that my point is obvious. It is business that counts in this world, and, as Harvard men, we ought to be glad that Harvard has seen the light and is now pouring into the channels of business all that great energy that once was turned, wastefully I believe, into the training of mere dreamers. The world may be comfortably divided into dreamers and schemers. The dreamers have had their day and look at them! But business is coming into her own. God bless her! And may you, too, see the light and have the courage to print this. George T. Chase '25.