This is the second of a series of articles on the Houses by the House Committee Chairman for the benefit of Freshmen planning to enter Houses. The articles are printed in the order they are received.

There was a time when Spring brought much furore into Cambridge, and first year men sat up until late on the first warm nights, afraid to decide, afraid to reach the conclusion that would make or mar their lives forever. Today the Central Committee, functioning with well-oiled precision on the inexhaustible fuel of noble ideas, has done much to mitigate the seriousness of one of the most pressing of annual Freshman problems--choosing a House.

Houses Alike Physically

Almost equal in physical appointments, thoroughly cross-sectioned in every meaning of the term, and closely alike with regard to room prices, the seven units of the House Plan apparently offer little to the outsider who would distinguish one from another in desirability.

There are, however, subtle distinctions, recognizable upon more careful examination, which render, we believe with pardonable complacency, a real difference in desirability as college living quarters. It must be clearly understood that we do not believe a Freshman definitely places himself at a disadvantage for the remainder of his college career by choosing a House other than Dunster. There are numerous examples of residents of the other six Houses who appear to be reasonably happy and contented young men.

Calm, Pleasant Atmosphere

But there are always a number of Freshmen, and those are the ones Dunster desires, who are grateful for the fact that there is still in Harvard College a place where calm and pleasant living in an atmosphere that is at once intellectually stimulating and lackadaisically insouciant is at a premium.

In Dunster House there is a felicitous absence of back-slapping and obnoxiously voluble breakfast conversation. No one is likely to tell you that you've got to get in there and give your all to help old Dunster win that old athletic trophy, though there are those who do care about athletic trophies. You are never embarrassed because you don't give a damn whether Dunster wins that old athletic trophy or not. It is a matter of considerable pride with us that there is no artificially stimulated House spirit of any sort whatsoever.

There are many residents of Dunster who do not feel that they are brothers, and do not feel guilty because of an absence of that feeling. It is perhaps this freedom to be an individual, making private decisions on all matters, that is the strongest traditions of the House, lending a certain loose sort of unity that is indefinable but noticeable and definitely contributory to a general satisfaction with one's surroundings.

Private Kitchen

One of the two Houses blessed with a private kitchen, Dunster has long been known to offer complete gustatory satisfaction when plaintive cries of inhabited haddock and aromatized butter disturbed other localities. The paneled dining hall is not at all reminiscent of the Boston Garden, but commands a pleasant view of the Charles and serves adequately when festivity fills the air.

A trite enumeration of other physical assets would doubtless be boring, since all men know that all Houses are adequately equipped. In later articles in this series, the reader may assume that when such things as superior squash courts, libraries, ping pong tables, common rooms, and the like are mentioned, such matters are taken for granted at Dunster.

The ever gracious Professor and Mrs. Haring preside pleasantly and always cooperatively over the social life of the House, while the list of Associates and Tutors offer a happily gregarious attitude to students who seek their company.

We are fortunate in not possessing a 'tutor's table.' In consequence the dining hall is always fertile territory for the development of faculty-student friendships. Beginning with Seymour Harris, the Senior Tutor, through Gale Noyes, Crane Brinton, Paul Doolin, and on down to John "Jack the Ripper" Rackliffe, the staff of resident Tutors combines with a staff of thirteen nonresident Tutors to assure the man in any field of concentration instruction within the House.

By actual measurement Adams House is closer to University Hall than any of the other Houses; but the statement that all Dunster men find it necessary to purchase bicycles is a myth. The physical isolation has always proved an advantage in the minds of most Dunster men, and by measurements other than actual, it has been established that Dunster is usually closer to Boston, Wellesley, Northampton, Poughkeepsie, the Crimson, Lampoon, and other centers of generally more interesting activity than University Hall.

A wit has remarked that if the Houses were nicknamed according to their characteristics, we might be referring to the "Lowell Bells", and the "Eliot Court". The best, however, he believed, would be the "Dunster Chimneys". Those chimneys that create our skylne have a greater significance than most people notice. They mean fire-places. There are less than half a dozen rooms in the House without fire-places, despite the never falling central heating system, and about them on long winter evenings the flow of good ale is mixed with the flow of equally good conversation.

Good conversation, wit and wisdom issuing pleasantly from the artful tongue is a thing that Sophomore, Junior, and Senior years place ever-increasing value on, and is the essence and tradition of Dunster. You may not know, even at the end of Sophomore year before whose fire you'll sit or who will sit round yours, for friendships seem to form and develop slowly here; but somehow you will be sitting in a small group about a fire before you leave, with pipes going and a tapped keg on the window sill, following with your mind the tenuous movements of live conversation. More than anything else you can be sure of you can be sure of this, here, if you want it, there is pleasant natural education