Another jump in that direction was the acquisition of Apley Court two years ago, now used for offices, temporary sleeping quarters, and the new library. Whereas the separation of Dudley from Apley is more a mental block than a real one, the scarcity of space already looms as a definite inconvenience. Apley's Bunk Room has enough beds for only ten men, which may well fall short of the usual exam period desire for some kind of overnight accommodations. "It seems like I spent more time going home and coming back than studying last year," one sophomore complained.

Perhaps the Apley library best shows the need for extra room and additional materials. For a numbers of years the commuter has felt that Lamont hours are unfairly slanted against him because of his restricted commuting schedule. While the Apley library helps fill the need by providing early check outs (4 p.m.) and late returns (1.30), not more than 16 men can possibly use the library at once. The cramped space leaves little room for quiet study when others are searching for books. But the soft Grey wall to wall carpeting combined with handsome furnishing are pleasant, and the collection of 1500 important course and tutorial books, while currently limited, will increase by a thousand a year until the shelves are filled with books needed by the commuter. Although the non-resident ahs used the library with encouraging regularity, librarian Roman Rubinstein '55 said, "When I go home at night there are often books left there. I used to fight to get at Lamount before we opened here." His request is often repeated at Dudley--the plea to offer not just a negative carping against unsolved difficulties.

"Where's The Money?"

The reason for many of the Center's caldrons of unfilled needs is found in an ever-draining container--the University's pocketbook. "Where are you going to get the money?" Dean Bunduy has asked. Certainly a large endowment does not mean available funds for every justified project. To place new lockers in Dudley's basement would take $12,000 and even the modest addition of a pool table would cost $750. A complete renovation or Dudley, including indirect lighting, painted concrete, partitioned areas, and murals on the wall would require on outlay of around $50,000, according to Architects Collaborative.

To create a substitute for the lack of sufficient facilities, the commuters have rallied about the Allston Burr Senior Tutor, Charles P. Whitlock, director of the Commuter Center, Justly praised by both students and faculty, Whitlock has been largely responsible for many of the recent innovations. Also close to the students is Philip G. Barach, the Graduate Secretary. "Along with Whitlock," an Educational Committee member said, "Barach knows what's going on around here--he's close to the heart of things." The pulse of Dudley's leaders, in fact, is moving at a rapid rate. "Everyone seems closer here than they are in the houses," said the chairman of the Dudley Committee, it's one of the really good things about the Center." The drive for a united housed feeling not only serves as an offset to Dudley's physical disadvantages; it is also in general opposition to the University's speculative plans for integrating the commuters as non-resident members of the houses.

Same Prestige Level

While the Dudley leaders have not plugged their cars against talk of integration's possibilities, the Dudley Reporter last week declared "Dudley has far greater potentialities as a place where all commuters can interact on the same prestige level; a place where we can continue to develop out fine group spirit."

Attempts to stir this spirit are particularly evident in the intramural athletic program. As one faculty member said, "The Dudley boys may not play polo, but just watch them in the ring." Besides boxing, Dudley is annually at the top, or near there, in hockey and table tennis. Dudley's athletic secretary likes to describe house spirit in terms of the football team's "fight"--against one of Yale's best house teams the Center lost by only one touchdown. A veteran observer at the IAB holds a slightly different interpretation. "It seems to me that on defensive goal line stands Dudley can fight back against anyone, but when they go on the offense, nothing quite comes off right." Whether correct or not, it is true that much of Dudley's efforts to organize teams is aimed at supplementing the negative spirit of opposition with a positive drive for taking part. Last year the Center was unable to field teams in golf, fencing, or the squash "A" bracket. Part of the trouble was the expense of green fees, and inexperience with the sports. But the biggest limitation was the unwillingness of most students to add the time burden of playing and practicing for a team to the hours spent commuting. As a result, Dudley finished in the cellar of the House league, although nearly 150 men took some part during the year. Lest the figure be deceiving, only a small core of about 20 men were able to spend time consistently with the squads.

special Dance

The partial but growing success of the Center's athletics has prompted a few administrators to suggest that it is the key to integration. "Let them play o the house teams," one Dean said, "and they will find out the advantages of the non-resident house membership." At present, however, such a move would probably divide the feeling of unity that encourages the commuters to allot the extra time for sports. "I like the idea of teaming it up with guys who live home like I do," a starter on the hockey squad said. "In a house, win or lose, I'd feel just another nobody."

An improvement and expansion of Dudley's social functions, like athletics, has brought more contact with the houses, and it has also revealed some remaining differences. At Dudley, for example, there are no real parietal rules, a hangover from the days when the University completely ignored the center. Yet except for the lady passer-by who needs directions, no woman ventures into Dudley, except for special social occasions. A more utilized privilege is the liquor permit at dances, one of the main arguments used against Dudley's long-delayed merger with the inter house dance committee.

The association nearly kicked back during the Ohio Dance planning for this year. The usual proposal to have drinks at the dance was vetoed by Whitlock on the grounds that Dudley should conform to the practice of the other houses. "Some of the guys felt a little bad about it," said one of the dance committee chairman, "but we had the Yale Dance at the Commander Hotel and were able to have bar facilities over there." Dudley's dances are a good step beyond the wild Cabaret parties of several years ago that burned the now-disappearing stigma on the commuter. They are still more informal, and perhaps louder, but a change for the better is clear. "We're beginning to feel a little more confident," one committee member stated, "now that we can make money on our dances and have some good mixers with the girl schools around Boston."

The involvement of Dudley in the social life of the University has been eminently more successful than its attempt to make extra-curricular activities available. Over half the students would engage in more organizations if they had the time off from commuting. Tere are no definite lines between the groupings of interests in Dudley. It is significant, for example, that only about four members belong to social or final clubs. They are, nevertheless, active members in house projects to improve Dudley.

Science Concentrators

Probably the most striking division for the outsider is the high proportion of men in science, nearly 50 per cent, as contrasted with the University total of 23 per cent. One of the Administration's theories attributes the high percent of science majors to the influence of the Harvard Medical School located next to Boston Latin School, a heavy contributor to Dudley. It is reasonable that the financial security and prestige appeal of the scientist or doctor would appeal to practical-minded thinking of moderate income families. For years the only available literature in the old Dudley library was a few dog-eared medical school catalogues, now replaced with a set that covers every important school in the country. The practical bent of the commuter is also indicated by the small number (less than 15 percent) in the humanities. with an eye toward a future profession, the commuter must generally follow a rigid schedule of afternoon library and lab work. Coupled with his traveling time, little opportunity remains for extra-curricular activities. Only a few of the commuters have found prominence as leaders on the Dudley Committee, and in clubs like the Social Relations Society and the Crimson Key.