Dear Dr. Pusey:

Beside the door of my entry is posted a sign, one bearing a rather simple message. It clearly and explicitly warns all solicitors and peddlers that they are not to intrude upon the privacy of this building.

It saddens me to report that for the past two weeks, with the apparent connivance of Harvard College, my privacy, my rest, and my studies have all been interrupted by a seemingly inexhaustible horde of earnest young men. They have come to my door vending banners, newspapers, magazines, house cards, two varieties of beer mug, stationery, various organizations, and, it would appear, almost every other amenity of college life. They, of course, are in addition to that most obnoxious gentleman of all, the one armed with whistle and squeaky red wagon. He comes every night, chanting the litany of doughnut and sandwich in a voice loud enough to inspire even the angels to join in the rush downstairs.

In short, it appears that Harvard, ignoring signs, rules, and sensibilities, has extended its pursuit of excellence to the merchandising game. I realize that this is progress, and that the most effective thing I can do is resign myself to it. But before making my final submission to the techniques of mass marketing, I do wish to register this one weak protest. Until recently, I had hoped that my relationship to Harvard was something more than that of consumer of doughnuts.

I am forwarding copies of this letter to the Harvard CRIMSON and to the Times. William H. McNew.