I’ve never actually seen one of the Boys dance at the Dartmouth College Grant, except maybe a little victory jig when someone lands a big fish. But I do like the closing line of the oft-censored poem by e.e. cummings that Phil Odence unearthed for the traditional reading after our dinner of gourmet green chili, thus demonstrating that "the Boys I mean are [at least somewhat] refined." And we would like to think that, in this our 60th year, our group of seven classmates can st