"Yo ho ho, the big monsoon/ If things get any worse, we'll be fishes soon" gurgled Eliot Hall last night, to win Radcliffe's annual Song-Fest. The contest was originally scheduled for the Quad, but Eliot prognosticators had the only slickers and umbrellas in the crowd, so it was moved into Cabot.
Briggs Hall placed second ("Three more years of Harvard men/ The ratio's one to ten"). Saville House sand "If someone would do pre-med with me/ I'd learn anatomy/ Harvard has the cure for you," while Whitman complained that Harvard men ". . . would rather go to Wheaten/ To find girls who put the heat on."
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