On the last time I will have this forum to address Fair Harvard, I have decide to create, in the proud tradition of the high school yearbook, a Senior Last Will and Testament of my own.

To President Rudenstine: A faculty that reflects the diversity of the student body.

To President Wilson: A bigger budget, more t-shirts for students, and a campus closer to the Yard.

To Dean Lewis: Some allies.

To Professor Sandel: A talk-show gig.

To Professor DeVore: A class taken for its subject matter rather than its title.

To Professor Kugel: Enrollment greater than Ec 10.

To Professor Feldstein: A lascivious limerick.

To FAS operations guru Bob Mortimer: Universal key card access and an occasional snow day.

To Menu Man: Love from the girls of Winthrop B-42. Mornings won't be the same without you.

To OCS: Thirty clones of William Wright-Swadel.

To the Harvard University Police Department: Thirty clones of Officer Mo Morrison.

To Harvard Dining Services: Thirty clones of Menu Man, plus 24-hour chickwich bars in every dining hall.

To FAS computer services: Immortality for the late and much lamented husc7.

To the MAC: Equipment to compete with Wellbridge.

To the final clubs: Entertainment as good as the Leverett House '80s dance.

To the BAT team: More creative subtraction.

To the Undergraduate Council: Real reform--and a Springfest band we've heard of.

To the Core Committee: Moral reasoning.

To Widener: Students who are actually there to use the library.

To Lamont: Widener's reputation.

To the Science Center: A second Greenhouse.

To Loker: Greenhouse pizza.

To 2 Divinity Avenue: A new location in the Yard.

To William James Hall: A new location in the Yard.

To Annenberg Hall: A butter pat on the ceiling.

To the Barker Center: A butter pat on the ceiling.

To the John Harvard statue: An umbrella.

To the River Houses: More DeWolfes.

To the Quad Houses: A monorail to the Yard.

To the Yard Dorms: One hundred German tourists.

To the Union Dorms: A single reason anyone would want to live there now that meals are in Annenberg.

To the juniors: A cool off-year Commencement speaker.

To the sophomores: A fruitful remaining year as patrons of the Grille.

To the first-years: The ability to overcome the stigma of being the "naught" class year.

To the pre-frosh: A satisfying life without Chelsea.

To the graduate students: One last sneer. Especially if you're a T.F.

To Harvard Square: Peruvian flute players on every corner.

To the Coop: A refund--no, giving it to us.

To the Tasty: An ever-lasting lease.

To the Wursthaus: A second coming.

To the Kong: Three egg rolls to go.

To Grafton's: A "One Potato Two Potato" commemorative booth.

To the Pro: Less Attention to Detail.

To the Grille: The best years of our lives.

To UHS: A clue.

To people who claim there's grade inflation at Harvard: A clue.

To section leaders who require weekly response papers: A clue.

To the Spare Change man who calls me 'Big Guy': A clue.

To Our Academic Advisors: Who?

To the Director's Bloc: Harumpf.

To the Lampoon: Humor--and the guts to top this fall's Ibis World Tour.

To the Independent: Their own news sources--and softball skills.

To the Harvard Crimson: 123 more years. It has been a pleasure.

This is Corinne E. Funk's final column.