I probably could not hope to get as much out of the Crimson Key House tour as the freshmen do, because I am in a House. But by listening to the freshmen talk, and paying close attention to the Key and House Committee men, I became aware of just how valuable such tours are. We gathered on the steps of Widener, about thirty strong, and a top Key man spoke to us. "These first day tours are never very large, but towards the end of the week they are huge, so if you want to tip off your friends about the best days, tell them to come tomorrow."

After several of us had written "tip off friends," in our notebooks, we started off to Adams House, with the leader backpedaling in front of us, answering questions and avoiding trees with considerable acumen. We saw in Adams, as is near succeeding House, the library, dining hall, common rooms, and a typical room, which in this case just happened to be Franklin D. Roosevelt's former suite. But of course, the climax was seeing the famous swimming pool.

"Do they allow girls in here?" queried one freshman with a sense of himor.

"No, no coeducational swimming," the leader quipped back.

One particularly conscientious boy jotted down "no coeducational swimming" in his notebook, and we moved on towards Dunster.

"Dunster is the party House," our leader commented, explaining its remoteness and great House spirit. One of the main reasons for its "communal atmosphere" is the refreshment room downstairs, where members gather at night for sandwiches and ping pong and other fun. In the library, one freshmen, in a read pastel athletic jacket with "Rockets" emblazoned on the back, asked, "How many books in here?"

"Ten thousand books, emphasis on science, government, and . . . . record room too, lead 'em down into the tunnels, Joe."

At Leverett, the Committee man was quick to tell us that although Dunster had the reputation of Party House, Leverett deserved it. Informality was the keynote, sometimes the dinning hall would stay open as late at 9:30 in the morning, and things like that. In the basement was the television room, housing a 21 inch Admiral. Sensing something important, many of us noted "21 inch Admiral" under the Leverett heading.

About all I could learn in Lowell House was that it is the biggest one, and the bathrooms are narrow because of its symmetrical shape. One nattily dressed man left the tour when he heard that Lowell would be the first to lost minds, after arguing about making his bed next year. The Lowell man did not know what to say about it except that it had everything the other Houses did, and a very fine photographic dark room.

John Finley had wanted to show the touring freshmen his own residence as a 150 dollar double, but the Key men thought this would be too much horse play. As the guides added witty commentary, my conscientious friends printed "Finely's house not $150 double" on his note pad. The leader showed us the fabulous Eliot grille and then the chapel, "for any of you that are religious." And so on to Kirkland.

"You'll find that when you come into the Kirkland dining hall, you won't be able to decide who to sit with. We've really got a tremendous atmosphere," the Committee man said proudly. We were also impressed with the unique Kirkland library, "It's really great to have small, homey rooms to study in."

The trip finished, I had a greater appreciation for the activities of the Key and House Committees, and I remembered the introductory speech to the tour. "House Committee officers are the governing bodies of the Houses, they do things like buy records and install automatic washing machines."