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The Bus Disservice

Long has the morning walk down Garden Street rendered the Radcliffe girl precious moments of solitary contemplation. Long has it provided her the fleeting opportunity to establish a Thou relationship with Nature and its secret beauties. Time was when her wispy passage cheered motorists wending disconsolately to work, when her stringy hair and unpainted lips lent gay decoration to the Cambridge Common. The Radcliffe Bus Service has sealed her decline. Glutted with uncalled-for comfort, she shall grow fat and superficial--too soon to occupy her place among the matrons of America.

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