Judge — November 8, 1930 — page 17: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

The Harlow College Crisis By Quentin ReyNotps arose and there was a slight scatter of applause as the assembled coaches of Harlow College settled in their seats to listen to his message. Mr. Bullwinkle was a crisp, dynamic business man, and he came right to the point. “Gentlemen,” he said, “I have called you together this morning to ask your co-operation. As you know, our financial affairs are in rather a desperate state. We have been spending too much money and we are not getting a proportionate return. I have asked Mr. Blottwit, the efficiency expert, to sit in at our meeting, listen to our problem, and give any constructive plan he might think of to increase revenue here at Harlow. “As you know, when I came here to Harlow the college consisted of a stuffy gymnasium, a small wooden grandstand for football games and a jumble of houses where the students lived. Now—well you all know what we have now. A stadium seating ninety thousand, and a gymnasium which holds eight thousand at basketball games. A pool where six thousand, at one dollar a head, can watch our swimming meets. A double- decked grandstand surrounding our baseball diamond. I think I have done pretty well.” He looked around at the assembled coaches. They nodded approvingly. “But gentlemen,” the president continued, “we have been lulled into a false sense of security by our crowded stadium. We see these huge crowds and forget our tremendous outlay. Why, Coach Grogan, do you know that your backfield alone costs us four hundred dollars a week?” Grogan nodded gloomily, “Try and get good players any cheaper, Mr. Bullwinkle. Link Johnson wants a raise, too. Then we promised Lippy Jordan a new car if he was high scorer this year and now he wants a Packard. There’s no escape, cither—he’s got a contract.” President Bullwinkle looked thoughtful, “I know it’s hard, Mr. Grogan. We have to keep the players satisfied or they won't put forth their best efforts. Then, too, we can’t afford to get the name of not living up to our promises. But we have to do something. Everything is going out and not much coming in. Now, Mr. Blottwit, you have heard our dilemma. Have you any suggestion to make?” Mr. Blottwit, a mild-mannered little man, cleared his throat and began talking almost apologetically. “Most of my work has been with the steel and coal industries, organizing corpora- tions and work of that sort. But I do have one suggestion,” he said mildly. “It may seem old-fashioned, but I think it would add to your income. You have exactly five hundred students here in Harlow. Of course,” he added hastily, “each one of them is a fine athlete, but none of them brings any money into your treasury except as a drawing card at athletic contests. Now my idea is to recruit another class of students who will come to Harlow just to study and who might be will- ing to pay for the privilege. Of course they won't help your teams, but you could charge each of them, say, three hundred dollars a year for tuition. You could throw up a couple of cheap buildings for classrooms, hire a few professors and hold classes here at Harlow. I think it could be done in such a way so that it wouldn’t interfere with the more important things, Five hundred paying students at three hundred dol- lars would bring in one hundred and fifty thousand ddllars a year. “Do you actually mean,” Mr, Bullwinkle said in amazement, “to hold daily classes and hire professors to teach these boys?” “Precisely,” Mr. Blottwit continued. ‘You could get four or five professors for almost nothing (Continued on page 29) 15 J ites Extas Buttwinke, president of Harlow College,