From the silent halls of Stillman Infirmary comes a mysterious and juicy tidbit exposing the bonds of true brotherhood that are sometimes created in Harvard. A student had been confined for several days in the third floor ward devoted to those afflicted with respiratory infections. Rigidly, despite the protestations of convalescents, the staff went through the usual ritual of tucking in the students, opening the windows, turning off the lights, and closing the door.

In the vicinity of midnight a strange visitor with a large box under his arm staggered into the building. In a few moments the door of the third floor ward was silently opened. With that indescribable odour that pervades hospital wards there was suddenly blended the invigorating perfume of beer, not faintly but distinctly and unmistakably. Silently the nocturnal visitor stepped from bed to bed, anxiously studying the sleeping faces, searching, searching. Apparently satisfied after traversing half the ward and arousing several light sleepers, he placed his burden on the foot of a bed, turned and stalked from the room.

It was not long before the nurse on duty entered. She walked to the bed, lifted the box in her arms, and tiptoed to the door again, closing it behind her. There were whispered conjectures among those who had awakened as to the significance of the strange event. The door, however, was soon opened again. The visitor had returned, again the possessor of his mysterious box. Strange! No one had heard the nurse scream. He paused but he bedside of a man near the door, and inquired in an audible whisper: "Is this the third floor?" Receiving an affirmative, he demanded assurance. "You're sure this is the third floor?" Assured, he strode to the familiar bed and again deposited the large box across the foot of it.

Not to be mystified longer, a neighbor of the recipient of the strange gift arose to investigate the contents of the box. At first it appeared empty, but closer examination revealed, reposing in the center and mashed beyond recognition, one five cent hamburger.

"He just loves hamburgers," the visitor whispered before tiptoeing awkardly from the room.