Art--P'raps, but I'm looking for another job.

Me--No foolin'

Art--Sure--talk about RATS leavin a sinkin' ship--when the damn thing's Julla water, even the MICF won't stick around!

Art's disgust with the state of things extends beyond the balance sheet. One night, in his quiet, humorous, dignified way, he walked in and left this note for the editors to think about?

Please dw knot esk the printers few coopureight bi comming inn early eny moare ez wi fine itt du, knot help thee Editur few gett outt eny erlier butt onli marks sed printters doughnate extry tyme fur witch thay receve absoleotly 0

As always, in his three and a hall decades at The Crimson, Art was right. All too right.

For a year or so, the comment book had been filled with symptoms of decline.

Art comes in daily at ":15, and some copy should be ready then. Candidates should try to do routines stories earlier in the afternoon whenever possible.

Art suggests possibility of a return to the practice of having two editors per paper, working concurrently.

It won't take many such things as take weatherlines, headlines, notices, etc., which have been appearing frequently to give the Crimson an unfortunate reputation. Gentlemen, we are a newspaper, not a Yale News....

CHRIST! How about some news! Just a little, tiny but, candidates, so that it won't be necessary to change the name of the paper to

The Review" or' ' Views of Reviews" God! I never saw a paper with less news.

Unfortunately, these comments accurately traced the pattern of the times. First the mechanics started to break down--the candidates unenthusiastic and dilatory, the editors slow and sloppy--and then the paper began to look less and less a newspaper, interviews, profiles, press handouts--anything but real news appeared on the front page, day after day. "For the University daily newspaper The Crimson is unchristly lousy," wrote one editor, and the sentiment was echoed by a growing minority of the news board. We have a very unenterprizing board of officers, damned shortsighted and not really interested in improving the paper..." said an editor, summing up their feelings. In all fairness, running The Crimson in those days was an almost impossible job. The executives who should have had their full time to devote to news were co-ordinating a drive to generate national-advertising; everyone who could was on the streets drumming up business. The editorial content of the paper deteriorated, and a growing group began to press for more national coverage, higher quality work from candidates, and an expansion of the size of the paper, which had shrunk to a norm of four pages as advertising dropped off. Some headway was made; David Lawrence was persuaded to donate his column free of charge, and it soon became a popular front page feature. Frozen out of the Associated Press by Robert Choate, publisher of the Boston Herald, the paper began taking U.P., and publishing a Column One of Salients in the Day's News" taken from the wire.

But Crimson stall members did little about covering national news themselves, and the coverage of College news continued to slip. One day, the paper received this letter from a College official:

I am wondering if The Crimson is very proud of its handling of the epidemic story this morning. The headlines states that there was