Red-Ink Sheet

It was Term Bill Time at Lehman Hall last week and the word that went forth from the University's counting houses had the veterans muttering. For the average G.I. who must meet room and board payments out of the $65 that Mr. Julian and the eagle provide, the $195 assessment for the summer term meant cashing in bonds, a quick trip to the favorite Dean, a chit to see Dean Sperry at the Divinity School, or a combination of all three. And, at the same time, the $195 bill became an obligation that must hang over the vet's head until the monthly good news from Washington finally clears it.

The University's new policy of cutting down the number of term bills and making each payment that much larger has other ill effects. Veterans entering college for the first time this summer found themselves ushered quickly to a choice spot behind the financial eight-ball. Men who must add to the government allotment in order to meet living costs have been forced to readjust strained budgets in order to simplify University bookkeeping. The stream of men petitioning for extensions, the loans, the red tape, the confusion, the added mental burden in face of the price mess, would all be avoided if the term bills could be aligned with the Public Law payments.

Caught in the middle of an economic whirlpool that seems ready to submerge the veteran almost immediately, the G.I. student rates a better break, be it only a bookkeeping service. Monthly bills could be met with monthly allotments in a simple and uncomplicated procedure that would keep everybody happy. At least this revision would cost the University nothing and might prevent the kind of financial acrobatics that most men are in school to avoid.