If YOU HAD to choose one, which would it be: correction marks all over your term papers, or brown spots staining your class notes? For most, the answer seems clear. But one sophomore resident of Cabot House didn't have the choice last week. Jeannie D. Low's notebooks were among the unfortunate victims as tens of gallons of tainted water flooded from a faulty toilet in Briggs Hall, the most dramatic and only the latest in a string of incidents begging a response to the same old question: What does Harvard plan to do about deteriorating living conditions at the Radcliffe Quad?

We've been hearing for years now about the mammoth renovation project sweeping through the Houses, costing tens of millions of dollars and aiming to remedy the problems that years of neglect inflicted upon the gems of the College's residential system. Before the work started three years ago, officials laid out a schedule that put the Quad Houses at the end of the list, precisely because, the logic went, they needed the most work. More time, officials claimed, would translate into more extensive planning and--most importantly--enough millions to realize all that generations of Quad residents had dreamed about: plush common rooms and House libraries; private bathrooms; suites instead of singles; vertical entries to replace hallways; even a single dining hall for the only House divided by two, North House. In sum, all the things that most River House residents could take for granted, without the extra walk to and from classes and campus activities that gives the Quad a terrible reputation to begin with. Nothing garish like a pool or motorized walkways--just a little equality.

So on went the renovations--Lowell and Winthrop, Adams and Leverett and Quincy, Dunster and Eliot and Kirkland. And now...? Not so fast, say College officials, "This Quad stuff is going to cost bundles of money, and we don't have all that we need. But we're committed to doing something: Look at all the fancy models and architect's proposals we've commissioned. And look--a new building for North, underground tunnels uniting Cabot, duplex suites, a whole new look. Isn't it pretty? Isn't it nice?"

Very nice. Very pretty. Highly encouraging. Only all that we hear at this point--just months away from the scheduled start of work--are lots of rumors, cautions from officials that they're still working on the details and promises that something will happen What? It depends on a lot of things, especially money. How much is on hand? That's tough to say. How much more is needed? There's never enough. When will it start? Probably next summer, maybe the next. Will the work inconvenience students? Most definitely--probably some shuffling around from House to House of both students and meals, and surely a significant amount of noise early in the morning for many months. But maybe not. Is there anything about this plan that's certain? Not at this time, it appears.

How much longer must the Quad wait? Student leaders and House masters from the Quad, petitions in hand and horror stories in mind, deserve more than vague assurances for their considerable patience. Dean of the College John B. Fox Jr. '59, the point man for the renovations, should make a visible effort to clear up whatever uncertainties remain about the Quad work. At the least, a letter from Fox to Quad residents, outlining the current plans and addressing any open questions, would go a long way towards reducing the confusion and anger surrounding the issue. Until such action is taken, residents, of Briggs Hall and other Quad residents can do nothing more than hope for temporary fixes to the crumbling walls, leaky ceilings, and inadequate electrical and plumbing systems that threaten to reduce life off Garden Street to a never-ending hassle.