A Freshman recently decided that he would like to live in Lowell House next year. Reaching Professor Jullan L. Coolidge on the telephone, he said, "I should like very much to get a suite for two in Lowell House for next year."

The Housemaster answered, "And what is your roommate's name?"

"I haven't got a roommate," replied the naive Freshman. "Thought perhaps you could suggest somebody, Sir."

"G?*d?!-- it," said Professor Coolidge, "this is a House, not a matrimonial agency."

Another story about House applications comes from Eliot House. A certain member of the Class of 1937 consulted Roger B. Merriman, House-master, regarding opportunities of living there next year. The Consultation was made at the Professor's home in the presence of his wife. Immediately after the applicant's departure, Mrs. Merriman said, "Roger, that young man is so handsome. We must have him in our House."

Regarding the meeting of the Model League of Nations, about which too much has already been said in these columns; we should like to add a little anecdote which involves Eliot House's second claim to fame, Victor H. Kramer '35 who incidentally (in case he hasn't told you) was Chairman of the Model League's local committee on arrangements. It seems that Victor happened to see that one of the delegates from Ecuador was engaged in knitting during one of the League meetings. Never before having seen a young lady knit, Mr. Kramer immediately dispatched one of the Radcliffe ushers with a note to the delegate from Ecuador. The reply came back, "Mrs. Roosevelt does it."

Another, perhaps more interesting Kramer experience, was his attempt to break up the various "committee meetings" of the League, which, finding open diplomacy distasteful, had left the lobby of the Continental Hotel in favor of private rooms. All Vic would say when approached on the matter last night was, "I never learned so much diplomacy in my life as I did then."