semi-literate alumni and nearly brought on a legislative investigation by an article entitled "Chaos at Harvard." In the cellar lit by sun-lamp, frogs about to be dissected live the idyllic life of the doomed croaking love songs all winter.

Odd Occupants

Like all Harvard buildings, the Bio Lab has picked up a few stray or temporary occupants whose tenure now seems permanent. In the basement, sandwiched between cold storage rooms and fish tanks, the Harvard Film Service produces motion pictures for the school of education and records programs of the undergraduate Radio Workshop. In a sunny first floor room the Cambridge Red Cross rolls bandages for Britain, and upstairs the federal government's Department of Interior maintains a research headquarters for its Fish and Wild Life Service. Weekending in Maine and splitting their Cambridge days between laboratories and fishing boats, the local G-men are studying fish of economic importance. Unlike the situation at other colleges, here the government researchers have no official faculty positions and don't lecture in college courses.

Lab is World of Its Own

A microcosm of the whole world of science, the Bio Lab contains a thousand variegated experiments and in one corner a group studies the flight mechaniism of birds while in another room Professor Henry Stetson plots the ocean bed. In the library during moments away from texts, the old wheeze is whispered about the Freshman who asked the libarian, "Do you have 'Sex and Internal Secretions,'" and was speedily answered, "Of course."

Little affected by the war and turmoil outside, these men of science go on probing into the unknown after the little facts which can be assembled into great truths--hoping that their contributions to knowledge will help advance humanity as well as biology--trusting that science has a meaning as well as method.