This was Grouser's fifth managerial report--one low pass and three unsatisfactories so far. As he walked along the Grey corridor in the basement of Morgan Hall, he knew that this time was going to be different. He could anticipate the thrill of achievement as he opened his report and saw "Distinction" written in a bold feminine hand: The cage of Morgan 3 loomed up before him. "3255" he whispered, to one of the girls who always seemed as if she were handing out death notices instead of reports and exams.

He grasped it and turned back the cover. It just couldn't be true. There, in the familiar hand was scrawled "unsatisfactory." In a minute he was up on the front steps of the library building, his mind still an utter blank. Then a feeling of rebellion began to swell up within him. "What do those damn college girls know about grading business reports?" he roared.

He remembered overhearing some of the boys in the dorm explaining how the graders came to the B School only to find husbands; that unless you dated them, you were lost. Not only that, but they said that all the graders had majored in Fine Arts and Sanskrit in college.

Grouser Meets Dean

Grouser marched angrily to the Dean's office. "I want to see Dean Holbrook," he stormed at one of the secretaries. After about 10 minutes, he was led into the presence of the dean. "It's either the graders or me, Dean Holbrook," he shouted incoherently. "One of us has got to go." The dean finally managed to clam Grouser and hear his complaint. "You obviously aren't acquainted with the technical workings of the grading system. Why don't you go to see Professor Hubbard, the head of the Managerial reports?" Grouser didn't feel like being shuttled between offices, but he did want to give this Hubbard a piece of his mind. "Thanks, Dean, and don't be surprised if I join the Navy or the Air Force," he grumbled. Up three flights, and he was in Professor Hubbard's office. "My name is Grouser. I laughed when I first heard about the graders' 'report-pitching' game, but after seeing the marks on five consecutive papers, I am convinced that's the way they figure them."

Professor Hubbard was definitely taken back. "What is this 'report-pitching' game?" he asked. "Well, my roommate has seen the graders in Gallatin House almost every noon standing at the bottom of the stairs, and pitching reports. The one farthest up receives a distinction, and the rest are graded accordingly."

Noting that Grouser was serious, Professor Hubbard described the grading procedure. "There are two members of the Faculty in charge of each report," he began. "They analyze it very carefully, write it down, and have their first meeting with the graders. All points are carefully discussed, and reports and picked at random, to check the findings of the group. The girls have already studied the case.

"Again papers are picked at random, and girls meet in conference groups to set up standards. The grading is not done on a point basis and credit is definitely given for a good but unorthodox approach." Grouser was awed.

Professor Hubbard then explained that a large card filled with graders' comments was filed away for each report. At the end of the year, all eight cards are examined, the trend of the grades is noted, a frequency distribution of the grades is made and then the final mark is determined.

"If a student shows improvement in the last reports, which are the most complicated, it is to his credit." But Grouser was, apparently, still not entirely convinced, so Professor Hubbard suggested a chat with Professor McNair to learn the history of the system.

He listened to Grouser's gripes sympathetically, and then traced the background of the procedure. "The increase in enrollment after World War I, and the policy if extending the case system to all courses made it impossible for the instructors to do the grading. So in 1920, I hired three female college graduates to do the job. By 1923, the matrimonial mortality rate was so high that we went back to male graders.

"Unfortunately, however, they didn't work out so well, and we learned our lesson. We returned to girl graders, and find them more efficient, conscientious, and patient than men." This was too much for Grouser. "Why, I didn't even think they were human," he blurted out. By way of reply, Professor McNair called a Dr. Larsen, and warned by telephone of "the approach" of a first term skeptic." So Grouser was soon on his way to Baker 217.

As it turned out, the lady our skeptic quizzed upon entering Baker 217 was not a secretary, but Dr. Larsen herself. While mumbling his confusion and things about "thought you were a man , and just wanted to ask you a few questions," he went boldly ahead. "I've been disillusioned five successive times by my B.P.A.'s, and have decided that it is about time to do something about it. After all, it takes a man's outlook to appreciate business problems, and I don't think girls can possibly do it."

Cheerfulness Breaks In

At this point they ere interrupted by the appearance of a very charming sweater girl who glided into the room, smiled seductively at him, deposited some papers on the desk, and pranced out.