Last Sunday morning a Crimson editor, loyal as ever to the cradle in which he was reared, drove out to Groton to attend Easter services. The scene was Easter to the last degree, with the stained-glass windows, the brightly-scrubbed Gothic pillars, the staunch lilies, and the choir boys resplendent in what F. P. A. once called "red surpluses". When the collection plate came round, even that had a hallowed tone in keeping with the sacred morning. As it passed the Crimson editor, piled high with bounty, a white slip of paper detached itself from the pile of money and fell to the floor. It was a check for ten dollars, crisp and sea-colored, signed by a well-known New York attorney. It was drawn on the National City Bank, and the donor, moved by the holiness of Easter, had made it payable to "GOD"!
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