To the Editors of the CRIMSON:

Yesterday's CRIMSON editorial on "The Service at Gore Hall" moves me to convey to you thus publicly my humble gratitude for your straightforward (though temperately phrased) comments anent the policing of the Library. (In my thoughtlessness I had almost said "our" Library.) This sort of service--secret service--one expects in the distributing stations of large city libraries, where individual attachments between books and readers are characteristically close, and where every person is under suspicion of being a thief until he is beyond the reach of temptation; but when members of the University are honored by the hirelings of the University with a grade of courtesy which would shame a country grocer's bumpkin, and with a gentlemanliness of demeanor which indicates an apprenticeship serving rations in a penitentiary, the intruding student is apt to wish that his taste for the finer courtesies had been better adapted to this new environment in the Reading Room at Gore Hall.

Far be it from me, however, to insinuate even indirectly that the rights and privileges of the gentlemen who officiate there are not indeed supreme and absolute. But I should wish to offer a single suggestion: that if their bearing toward the noisome student who infests their domain should ever by any cataclysmic regeneration of their nature approach a reasonable condescension as its limit, the approach should be very gradual, so that we might be able, by great effort, to adjust ourselves to such a revolutionary change in the life of the Harvard student as this regeneration would cause. 1908.