To the Editor of the Crimson:

The other day a letter appeared in the Crimson begging for people to try out for the Harvard Dramatic Club's spring play, The Great God Brown. This may have amused any student who read it--it probably bore out a whole lot of theories on the general decadence of the Dramatic Club.

It wasn't an awfully funny letter. There aren't many good actors available in college and about 90 per cent of them graduate this June. The Dramatic Club is not the only group which has to scurry around for help. The House plays search the College, so does the Student Union, so too does Hasty Pudding.

The big disappointment at the moment is that there are no new underclassmen interested. But there are other perennial bumps which the Dramatic Club has to ride each year. The University offers no Faculty advice or financial aid, but contents itself with charging $200 a clip for the use of Sanders Theatre. The Maintenance Dept. pockets petty graft for hanging curtains, planting invisible watchmen, sending prying inspectors. The real socko of all, however--the knock down punch--comes when no audience appears after three weeks of tough work. After flunking exams, losing sleep and sanity, thinking all the time that one's work is worthwhile, there is a feeling of absolute disgust when no one takes any interest at all.

The Dramatic Club may well be decadent, but there have certainly never been enough people at recent shows to know this to be true. The Ascent of F-6 and The Family Reunion were well worth anyone's fifty cents.

We are open to suggestion on policy. The last play Too Much Johnson was a valiant effort to gather a lowbrow audience after the two highbrow plays failed financially.

Perhaps we had better start a Dr. Kildare series, or Blondie with free kitchenware at matinees; or should we die quietly and gracefully, admitting that the theatre has; no place in an institution of higher learning as President-emeritus Lowell so kindly intimated? John Holabird '42.