Harvard men who visit a new restaurant in Fifty-seventh Street called the Granada Grill are falling on the neck, quite literally, of the rotund black doorman resplendent in new maroon uniform and gold-toothed smile. For it has turned out he is none other than Terry of beloved memory, for nineteen years clerk and general factotum of the Dean's office in Cambridge and famous for his memory of students' names and faces.

We went to the Grill this week with a Harvard 1911 man whom Terry greeted, "Why hello, Ernie, what are you doing here? You belong in Cleveland" which was a fact. Later we drew Terry aside and asked him what mark "Ernie" had drawn in English 45, "A 'B'," said Terry at once, "and Phi Beta Kappa key in his Junior year a good boy that."

Another Harvard patron of the restaurant, Mr. Howard J. Sachs, was startled to have Terry call him by name and say: "Let me see Sachs, Howard J. middle name Joseph. There were four Sachs, Paul 1900, Arthur 1901, Walter 1904, and Howard J. 1911--Right?"

While at Cambridge. Terry's chief extra-curriculum activity was on behalf of the Harvard Athletic Association. On the days of the big games several hundred grads would turn up at the Athletic Association's office asking for duplicates for the tickets they had losten route. It was always a difficult matter to sift out the legitimate ticket-holders from the imposters who took advantage of the situation, and the crowning achievement of Terry's memory was in 1915 when out of five hundred applicants he identified five hundred, and caught, red-handed, three imposters.

The story is that Terry no longer holds his university post because of his soft-heartedness. In 1919 it was discovered that he was not only disclosing to nervous undergraduates the results of examinations before the sacred date for the publication of marks, but also, on occasion, raising the marks from failure to passing. One Harvard man assures us that Terry saved more students from flunking out than any professor or tutor in the university. The New Yorker.