Since we at Dartboard blew the cover on that ailment affecting many Harvard students, laundry guilt, we have been inundated with phone calls from people suffering from a different, unique form of the condition. These people who have suffered in silence must now be accepted, for they too have a very difficult problem.

Born of their incompetence in laundry skills, a lack of time, a surplus of funds or some combination thereof, there are certain people who have their laundry done every week by HSA Cleaners. They bear in silence the knowledge that their Harvard classmates must occasionally load quarters into a washer and dryer, while all they do is walk to their accustomed depot on Monday, Wednesday or Friday, drop off or pick up their laundry and then waltz away. They don't worry about fabric softener, bleach, detergent or the gentle cycle. Permanent press sounds like a never-ending basketball game. Gentle cycle sounds like a mellow day on their bikes.

But in the backs of their minds, they suffer. Part of their dilemma seems to be the idea that Harvard students must always be busy or be doing things for themselves. These people view themselves as outcasts, mocked and frightened wherever they go. Everyone knows who they are, and this is the crux of their laundry guilt.

They carry bright purple, yellow, and red laundry bags to the depot. You know you've seen them, and you've probably scowled, or if you know them, you've told them they're slackers. Yet HSA Guilt is devastating--the guilty parties know that it's because they would spend more money buying more clothes or just have whitened everything if they were to do their own laundry.

One speculates that this would be worse than the mockery they are subjected to in their current situation. Yet still, being reminded time and again that "You don't have to really do laundry" batters the fragile egos of any Harvard student.

Next time you're about to comment nastily about the bright yellow laundry bag, hold your tongue, put your finger on the side of your nose, and show your classmates that you support them. PAUL S. GUTMAN

STACKED AGAINST THE SHORT

We at Dartboard have an announcement to make: we are short. We have never felt the need to announce this before because we always assumed it was obvious to anyone who met us. But apparently we have never met the folks who designed Pusey Library.

Struggling for a book on the top shelf in the Pusey stacks, we found that we could barely reach the third shelf down. A view of the titles of the books on the top shelf was a mere pipe dream. Even if we were six feet tall, reaching the shelf would have been a stretch. And there wasn't a single one of those little rolly-stairs things in sight. Dragging a chair from a nearby carrel, we found that, perched precariously astride the arms of the chair, we could just make the grab.

Pusey, home of the magical, compressible shelving, must have required some planning. How about revamping that system so the shelves can go up and down?   ELIZABETH S. ZUCKERMAN