Our campus is not a giant, factory-size job with a particle accelerator and a two-hundred-man football squad, but it's chummy. The chummiest -- thing -about it is the bulletin board in Old Main. You may find a stray glove fastened up with a thumbtack, or you can pick up a baby-sitting job if a married veteran doesn't beat you tO it. Or you can buy a car cheap if you tow it from where it gave up. There are items like: "Will the person who removed a windbreaker from the Library please return same and receive a punch in the nose?"

But the main interest is the next four sections, "ATo-G," "H-To-L," "M-To-T," and "U -- 'ro-Z," for they are what we use in place -- of the U.S. Postal "Service" at enormous saving in postage. Everybody inspects his section before class in the morning. If there's nothing for you, at least you can see who dOes get mail and sometimes from whom. You'll look again at lunch time and before going home. A person with a busy social life will check the board six or seven times.

Mine isn't that busy but I frequently find a note from Cliff. He knows I like to, so he indulges me. It'sfun to get mail on the board.

There was a girl I used to run across because we were both in "H-ro-L" -- Gabrielle Lamont. I would say hello and she would say hello and there it stopped. Gabrielle was a sad one-not a total termite, but dampish. Her face had the usual features but she let them live their own lives, not even lipstick. She skinned her hair back and her clothes looked as if they had been bought in France. Not Paris-just France. There's a difference.

Which they probably were. Her father is in Modern Languages and he sent her three years to school in France. It did something. I don't think she ever had a date.

We both had eight o'clocks and she would check "H -- ~ro-L" every morning when I did and then go quietly away. There was never a note for her.