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By a series of events, curious, but not wholly undecipherable in view of past performances, the Tower of Lowell House has crept slowly and laboriously from its humble foundations of purity and democracy, and now raises its majestic head over all Cambridge (and part of Boston) only to find that fame is but a gilded bauble.
The sentiments of any self-respecting tower under similar conditions can easily be imagined. After waging such an heroic struggle for so many months against the forces of nature in general and gravity in particular, thus to have one's efforts crowned with a mere golden ball obviously fake, at that, would be enough to try the patience of a steeple. And from the point of view of the public, the resemblance which the unfortunate Tower bears to the late-lamented Happy Hooligan cannot easily be overlooked.
But leaving out of consideration the outraged feelings of the Tower, even a utilitarian motive for causing it such shame is by no means obvious. After two more House Units have been similarly adorned, the resulting emblem hung against the sky might conceivably be appropriate for the Business School, but they should have thought of that in 1926. And as for intramural flag-pole sitting, the weathervane would offer a well-nigh insurmountable obstacle.
But perhaps, although this by no means a comfortable thought, the Golden Ball was meant as an ornament.
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