Car bodies, and not cadavers, is the business of Elwood C. Reeves, manager of the Springfield Commercial Body Co., Inc. in Cambridge, and he wants it understood that he's trying to interest Harvard buyers in an antique horse-drawn hearse only as a side line.

Reeves feels sure that a College purchaser can be found for his luxuriant transparent bier, "a bargain at a hundred bucks," and he reported yesterday that "a couple of fellows have already been around."

Hearsey Hijinks

"It would be great for school spirit," he asserts. "Just think of the fun you could have burying Mr. Yale in there the night of a pre-game rally."

Reeves speaks from experience when be says the huge mahogany conveyance, topped off with a high coach seat attracts a lot of attention. He predicted yesterday that it would require a municipal parade permit to take the convey- ance out of the store in broad daylight.

When Reeves originally acquired the property from the town of Hampton, New Hampshire, it was stored in the hearse house of the town cemetary. "We had to steal in there at night, like ghouls," Reeves confessed, "to avoid a public demonstration in towing it down."

Hampton citizenry was pretty attached to the hearse, Reeves recalls, but he is confident that College men could also learn to love it