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THE WIDOW MOVES

NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED

Down come the attractive little white wooden houses with their neat green shutters Pegasus soars to a new stable, Tragic Muses drag from their familiar haunt, the last of the Arthurian Mohicans packs his kit--the Widow is moving to the Gold Coast.

Yet in the new colonial Mansion, soon to house an ancient matron, ghosts will walk. For the Widow now has skeletons within her closet. Since that famous gentleman who built the excellent tradition of the Widow's has departed, the Lady of Learning has waned. Indeed, more than a new carapace is needed--body, soul are requsite. For even a tutoring school must have both.

--Some there are, have been, will be, who worry at the building project of the Lady of Learning. "Why," they ask, "did not John Harvard dig into his pockets and save the day." The answer is obvious, John Harvard dug, and well, he went back to his chair before University Hall and mused in economics. At least he doesn't have to look at the wealthy lady's portals, he wanted for his own. And he has the new bell to listen to Affairs might be much worse.

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