The Eliot House Grill is a place of rich, savory odors, the perfect spot to let the day's learning settle along with something else a little more concrete. But all those who are more than occasional frequenters must have noticed certain strong, sporadic smells that pervade the place now and then, and raise speculations in the minds of the more imaginative epicures as to whether the hamburgers take perhaps a pinch of the traditional ingredient, goat's dung.

Last week a fellow-diner of ours suddenly had a call. With very little warning he walked over and climbed to the top of an out-of-the-way radiator. He examined it intently and then announced, "Yes, it's still there". Producing a very fusty relie of a waffle, he explained that over a year ago in a frolicsome mood he had tossed it up to that lodging. Ever since we have caught ourselves eyeing all the obscure crannies and corners with half-conscious suspicion. A detachment of idle biddies (and there are plenty) seems to be the only solution.