Editor, the Weekly


I had not been a "G .I. student" at Queen's University, Belfast, North Ireland, more than a few days before I discovered that one of the favorite campus legends here concerns Princeton's own President McCosh. It seems that Dr. McCosh, when a young, newly-created professor at Queen's several years before he came to the U.S., had a reputation as a strict disciplinarian and a stricter grammarian. Late one night, while proctoring one of the dormitories, loud noises of student revelry began to emanate from one of the third-floor rooms. Bounding up the stairs two at a time, Dr. McCosh strode to the offending door and rapped several times, accompanying the raps with his most authoritative "Open this door." After a moment's silence a tremulous voice queried: "Who's there?"

"It's me, Professor McCosh," thundered the good doctor.

"Whew," replied the voice, pregnant with relief, "you really gave us a turn — Professor McCosh indeed! Imagine Professor McCosh ever making a grammatical mistake like 'It’s me.' Beat it, whoever you are."

The man who was to become one of Princeton's greatest presidents slunk away as quickly as possible, utterly crushed.