ONETIME vice president and very rich man Nelson Rockefeller was reputed to have rasped: "The bathroom is the great leveller--fella."

Rockefeller was never known as an academic, but do his words ring true in the halls of ivy? Or rather, the stalls of ivy? Two days of vigorous investigation produced nothing on President Bok's lavatorial literary leanings. His secretary, however, allowed that the boss "definitely did not wish to respond" to such a query, and then she put in her two cents worth: "Personally," she scolded, "I think it's in very poor taste."

President Horner's secretary was equally unamused. "She is too busy today to answer that question," she huffed.

But not all subscribers to the scholarly life were uncooperative. Hale Champion, special assistant to Bok, said when in the bathroom, he peruses "whatever I'm reading anywhere else--newspapers, books, magazines."

"I don't see why I should read different things in different rooms," he added.

Some, however, had more refined tastes. Henry C. Moses, dean of freshmen, said he reads the L.L. Bean catalogue. Why? "Because it reminds me there are other lives than the sedentary one."

"Basically, anything to do with nature and orchids," George W. Goethels, senior lecturer on Psychology, confessed. "I read the Audobon Magazine."

Far and away, professors' number one potty choice is The New York Times. Sidney Verba, chairman of the Government Department, and Harvey C. Mansfield, professor of Government, may not agree on grading policies but they agree that all the news that's fit to print is adequate restroom reading.

Dr. Warren E.C. Wacker, director of the University Health Services and Oliver Professor of Hygiene, lives up at South House. Sometimes, he says, the papers don't make it up there in time. "If they do," he adds, "I read them--including The Crimson." If they don't come, however, Wacker says "one still has to while away the time": he's currently at work on "Paul Scott's thing about India."

Some prefer literature to current events. Albert B. Lord, Porter Professor of Slavic and Comparative Literature, reads "a variety of things, but at the moment I'm reading some Bulgarian short stories partly because of a paper I'm writing on fantasy and the occult." That's fine for a scholarly mood, but for light reading, Lord likes "mostly detective stories--occasionally science fiction."

Donald L. Fanger, professor of Slavic and Comparative Literature, hit the floor after hearing the question. "I'm not used to making public confessions of that sort," he blushed. But then he opted for a "professorial comment." "It's always seemed that the bathroom might be the ideal setting for Finnegan's Wake," he surmised. "In my experience, Finnegan's Wake is best approached in short takes rather than in long segments."

Meanwhile, Robert J. Kiely, professor of English and Master of Adams House, keeps a regular storehouse close at hand. "The New York Times magazine section, the Boston Globe's New England...Let me think, what else is usually in there? Oh, the travel section of The New York Times." But if all else fails, the father of two admits. "We've always got a lot of children's books in there if we get bored."

Donald H. Fleming, Trumbull Professor of American History, spends his time on the toilet bettering his mind with Teutonic tracts. "If I read anything I read German history books to improve my German. I'm not very good at it," he admitted, "but I'm trying to get better." Hang in there.

George Wald, Higgins Professor of Biology Emeritus, recalled, "The last book I read in the bathroom was Meetings With Remarkable Men by Gurdjieff." Wald also expressed some concern about his image: "This will probably take away what little shreds of respectability I have left."

A large number of professors confessed to being illiterate when it comes to outhouse offerings. When asked what he ponders in the powder room, Owen J. Gingerich, professor of Astronomy and of the History of Science, replied briefly "I don't."

John L. Clive, professor of History, observed, "The bathroom is not my reading room." Relax, Widener, Robert H. Chapman, professor of English Literature and director of the Loeb Drama Center, also said he does not take tomes to the toilets. "I usually go there for other reasons."

"Nothing at all," Theda and William Skocpol, associate professors of sociology and physics, quipped in stereo. "Neither of us do."

"I have no interest in participating in a forum of that sort," huffed Michael L. Walzer, professor of Government. And that was that. But Gregory Nagy, professor of Greek and Latin, his wife giggling in the background, spluttered, "I don't read in the bathroom. I have so many things to say...This one short-circuits me completely," he gurgled, collapsing in a fit of hysterical laughter.