The Lucky Bag

Much to the relief of the Administration, the neighbors, and those addicted to Sack Drill, the place has finally quieted down. In fact, there is nothing doing. It might be the effect of the Beer Bust of last week, but we rather doubt that. We think it's probably just the heat.

The heat was really on last week in more ways than one. After some bonder from Co. 4 left one of his old coke bottles in Chaso E entry and thus restricted all of us for the second week in a row, it looked dark for the week-end boys." And then, the close escape this week, when it seemed as though tomorrow would also be half wasted. Only for Keith Broman (who, incidentally, is seeking public office, post bellum), we'd be looking forward to missing our 1 o'clock trains and dates. All is now settled.

Something ought to be done about: 1) The absolute lack of social-life amongst the 171 of us. Some kind of a dance or clam-bake or lynching party should be organized. With men like Jock Brunner and Bill James straining at the leash only the inspiration is needed. Don Brown suggests that a formal dance would go well the weekend after Labor Day. I guess, maybe, he's right. 2) The singing and marching on the way to chow. The morale which made us almost conspicuous during our Midshipmen term has just about disintegrated. Perhaps the new songs which will be out soon will help remedy this ill.

The School's Laundry announces its new method of doing shirts. Boiled down, the system is just this: Shirts are first dunked very quickly into a weak solution of water and soap. Then said shirts are run through a shredder which makes the fabric more comfortable for summer wear by virtue of the long gashes made all over the body of the shirt. Then various solutions of chemicals are sprayed indiscriminately over the shirt until various discolorations and bleachings appear. Then the shirts are ready for pressing. This is the novel operation of the system. The shirts for the Mid-Off school are placed all on a table. Sixteen of the largest women in nearby Brighton then sit upon the shirts until they are pressed into the fine smooth job which you all know so well. Then just before the shirts leave the plant some female flend etches on the collars of all the shirts--on the outside, of course, transcriptions which read something like this, "hc19876k2" or "GOT459z91--*lb." At the end of three or four washings you really have a different looking shirt. It only goes with your different looking undies and trousers. The secret of the Laundry's success, the General Mgr., Bill Collector, Truck Driver, told me, is the fact that your laundry is first aged for a two week period before being professed. That is the secret.

DEFINITION: The Students' Club--a poor excuse for a saloon.

The Library--A good excuse for the Students' Club.

During the past weekend some of the lands, finding the dearth of women in Boston unbearable, headed for the wide open spaces seeking the beauties of New England. Chick Henn and Ed Johnson Claim they found them in historic old Provincetown. Of course, that is not all they told.

Tomorrow will see the big Company 4 event of the week. Gene Speer, after his bachelor party of last Wednesday down at Jake Wirth's will become a benedict at the Harvard Memorial Chapel. All of course, are invited.

Cowie Hall again makes the new this week. First of all there is the attraction which Checkers and Dietitians alike have for so many of the boys. Nancy, Marion, Jane, Mary Anne, and all the others come in for their share of the dates. As long as they ration said dates out to only Mid-Off's all will be fine. Then the ladies behind the counter--Julia, Margaret, and Sally in particular--feted one of our men by a little birthday party very recently. And the Food. The other morning saw the worst form of torture possible thrust upon us as we hungrily passed along the line to find for cereal only one choice, All-Bran.