ELIOT HOUSE

In the courtyard of Eliot House there frisks daily a furry and appealing little dog, owned by one of the tutors, which pathetically represents the unattained and perhaps unattainable House spirit of general camaraderie and friendliness. The actual spirit of Eliot House is more nearly personified by the intelligence, independence, and withal occasional warm-heartedness of Professor Matthiessen's cat, which lives on terms of cold tolerance with the mice that disport themselves about the dining room.

Eliot House is undoubtedly characterized by a certain feeling of complacency at its own independence and self-sufficiency. Paradoxically, it is one of the least homogeneous of the seven Houses, having within its walls a variety of different groups and circles which make no attempt to mingle with each other. The ideal cross-section is most nearly realized here in organization, and the very number of the groups almost assures the new House member that he will find his place in one or the other of them.

With this heterogeneous mass Professor Merriman has striven nobly, by means of entry suppers and other gatherings, and largely to his efforts and aloof geniality may be attributed the progress of the House during the past year. In spite of the partly warranted criticisms on the success of the tutors in "preserving themselves from too frequent student contact," these much maligned gentlemen, while confining themselves fairly closely to their own dining table, have not been inactive in other relations with students. The energy and interest of Professor Matthiessen and Dr. Spencer were largely responsible for the extraordinary success of the recent play, which might be distinguished as the first "cross-section" or representative product of the House. Yet there still remains something to be desired in the relations between the students and this really excellent body of tutors, possessed of such diverse interests and pleasant personality. The unusually large number of these men has given a feeling of solidity to the House which might otherwise be lacking.

Eliot's oligarchic House Committee has accomplished little in the way of promoting that ephemeral "House spirit," partly because of its own inability to do so and partly because of the apparent desire of the inhabitants to be left to their own devices. As the article of the chairman in today's issue justly remarks, general House gatherings and entertainments have been just infrequent and spontaneous enough to succeed.

Physically, Eliot may be noted for its most comfortable, well-equipped, and tastefully furnished library; for its Night Lunch whose congenial early morning atmosphere has proved a strong influence in levelling barriers and promoting camaraderie; for its "gold-fish" case, originally designed to hold the never-won House rowing cup, and recently graced for two days with an anonymous pair of boots; and finally, for its accessibility to the athletic fields, the University Theatre, the Boat houses, and T. S. Eliot (who will not be there next year). In addition, incalculable spiritual and intellectual gain may be expected when the Society of Fellows moves into its headquarters already established in the building.

Eliot House, partly because of its size, is the most intellectually and socially diversified unit in the House plan, containing every sort of intellectual, Lampoon editors, football and other athletes, social climbers, political instigators, loud talkers, do-nothings, and all the other common disadvantages or attractions of every House. Yet the elephant will continue on its independent, placid way, self-sufficient, but justly contented.