With turkey for dinner and roast beef for supper, those few students who remained on University grounds over Thanksgiving had plenty to be thankful for.
While most of their peers bundled off to the city of New York or wangled dinner invitations from friends of the family in nearby villages, those left behind all agreed that the Union and Houses offered "the best meals since the good old days--and no lines either."
This morning, with Yale game hangovers replaced by post-Thanksgiving indigestion, a rapid and informal survey of the local scene showed that:
Dick Harlow and his coaching staff could be thankful. They had one whole year to devise strategy to beat Yale in 1948.
Basketball mentor Bill Barclay could be thankful. His squad had more height, depth, speed, and experience than last year.
The biddies could be thankful. They got the day off.
Mayor Curley could be thankful. He got off.
The faculty could be thankful--no more blue books to read and grade until 1948.
Students who squeezed by their hour examinations could be thankful. Those who did not could spend the day in the traditional manner--with prayer and meditation--anyway.
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