Some students could also be allergic to the anti-ant spray, and Finn's reading of society is pretty accurate.

Baird Professor of Science Edward O. Wilson, Harvard's resident ant-man, gave his stamp of approval to the peanut/acid concoction. Praising its non-toxic effect, Wilson called the Dunster House project, "the magic bullet, fitting the particular circumstances in addition to the species."

Criticism that Operation DEAD might fail since the cold of winter could keep the ants from foraging around students' uncarpeted floors and unheated bedrooms should not be a factor, said Dunster House Master Karel Liem.

Liem valiantly promised to keep students' rooms heated throughout the chilly season or at least until the ants have vanished. "Maybe they'll all come out this week when it warms up and eat themselves silly," added Finn.

Still, some complain that peanut butter is a bad choice. Bleary-eyed students waking up five minutes before class tell of moments of horror, frozen in doubt whether they are about to eat an acid-laced PB&J or the real thing.

But the alternatives, Liem assures Dunsterites, were far worse: tuna or meat. No kidding. Rooms that reek like Boston Harbor or attract carnivorous exoskeletal creatures don't sound too appealing.

Liem, who is also Henry Bryant Bigelow Professor of Icthyology, sought to use his expertise in marine life to solve Dunster's insect infestation. His personal request: "I wish I had ant-eating fish."

Whatever happens to the ant colony that has taken residence in Dunster, Operation DEAD promises to add a little crunch to house life.

And since it will only work if every Dunsterite lays down the peanut butter traps for six weeks in a row, maybe some house-bonding will result from the season's ant-slaying fest.