And if you still think this place doesn't sound enough like Harvard, Inc. instead of Harvard U., you'll be happy to hear that the University has its own Merrill Lynch of sorts: the Harvard Management Co. (HMC). HMC has made the University a major player in the stock market, as well as in high-risk fields such as venture capital and lever-aged buyouts. Its young-turk money managers (think of Charlie Sheen in the movie Wall Street) pull down salaries of more than $1 million a year. This fall, HMC will have a new president, Jack R. Meyer, who is currently treasurer of the Rockefeller Foundation.

While the high finance of Harvard is controlled by flashy characters in tallored suits, the lowlier task of actually running the College is left to homelier figures.

Take Dean of the College L. Fred Jewett '57, for example. Graced with a last name that sends thrills up the spines of Beacon Hill genealogists, Jewett in his baggy suits and rumpled neckties looks the part of the Ivy League administrator. Jewett is so Harvard, in fact, (you should learn to start using the University's name as an adjective) that some say he hasn't been away from the Yard for more than a week and a half since he enrolled here 37 years ago.

You might not think Jewett the sort who would buck tradition. But lately, he has done just that, spearheading efforts to change Harvard's annual housing lottery to make the system more random. Last year, he raised cries for blood among first-year students by pushing through a system of "nonordered choice" in which rising sophomores are randomly assigned to one of the four upperclass Houses they select on their housing form.

Another way Jewett has endeared himself to undergraduates is by serving as head of the Administrative Board, which disciplines students guilty of "conduct unbecoming a Harvard student."

Joining Jewett on the ever-popular Ad Board is Dean of Students Archie C. Epps III. Epps is easily recognizable by his polka-dot bow ties, seersucker suits, funny accent and umbrella with a carved duck's head on the handle (really). He's also one of Harvard's few Black administrators.

Besides advising incorrigibles that it might be best to take some time off to rethink their reasons for coming to Harvard, Epps's duties include dealing with a wide range of undergraduate concerns, such as overseeing extracurricular privileges and assignment of performance spaces for student groups.

And as first-year students, you'll even have an administrator all your own: Henry C. Moses, the dean responsible solely for dealing with the worries of Yardlings. He's the one your roommate's parents will call to complain that their daughter says she can't live in the same suite with you for eight more months.

And that's not all. Those of you who are women will also get, at no extra charge, an entire bureaucracy all your own. The one drawback is that you'll never really know what it does.

In fact, not even Radcliffe's administrators seem to be sure what their job is since the college completed its "non-merger merger" with Harvard in the 1970s. Although Radcliffe's new president, Linda S. Wilson, has spoken of creating a "shared vision" for the college since she took office last year, few women undergraduates know exactly what that means. And many still say that the name Radcliffe means little more to them than an extra word on their Harvard diplomas.