'Cliffedweller Avows Duncan Hines Incomplete, Goes Behind the Screens Gathering Data on Local Hostelries

"They say cleanliness is next to Godliness, but in there its next to impossible," a pretty miss was heard to mutter as she emerged from the door marked "Women" and rejoined her Harvard man.

Designed to avoid such incidents as these, pro-publication notes on the Boston section of a nation-wide bathroom survey were released by a socially-minded 'Cliffedweller last night, in time to steer unwary Jubilee-goaf around sore spots.

House provisions for the feminine trade rank high, with Adams' "clean, orderly, pretty" ladies room receiving a special nod of approval. "Though this won't appear in my book," the fetching authoress added, "you might say that Radcliffe would appreciate more facilities around Harvard."

On the dark side of the picture she lists Cronin's. "dirty, no towels, no paper, no soap;" the Crimson Network, whose non-functioning bathtub houses the beginnings of an archy colony; and the Copley, "big, with obsolescent pulll-chains."

Worst of all local establishments is beasted by "a dire on Trement Street," where the men's and women's divisions are separated by a partition which the candid chronicler discribe as "waist high."