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A CRIMSON WIDOW

The Mail

To the Editors of the CRIMSON:

A gentleman friend of mine who works for your paper, hasn't been around to see me much lately. Each time I track him down, his sleepy eyes and unshaven jewls tell me better than any words could that he just isn't taking care of himself. He keeps saying that he's in some sort of back-biting contest . . . . he calls it EXECCOMP, which I suppose is a letter abbreviation like UNRRA or CIO or something.

Well, I'm here to tell you that I just don't like it. What I mean is, I just don't think it's fair for him to spend so much time down there. Why, he doesn't even get paid. To top all this off, he can't be in a very healthy state of mind since he's always brushing his lapel and muttering something about little, round men. Name Withheld by Request

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