If anything can put a damper on the vagabonding spirit, it is a cold. Rain helps a little. That grand New England institution of the boardwalk has its merits and its cracks. While a chair and "Gandle Follows His Nose", the book which Heywood Broun claims to have read more often that any other novel in the language--possibly because he wrote it--, may wreck the best intentions in the world.

There are lectures, however, which I can think about between snuffles. Pro-Professor Gay in Harvard I will be giving a summary of the economic progress of the nineteenth century at 9 o'clock. At 11 o'clock, Professor Whitney will give the lecture which has the best chance to triumph over my weakened condition, in Emerson J. The Plelade Cement Marot, Montaigne and Pascal, great names of the high Renaissance in France, will be his subject.--Then there are at noon Professor Demos in Emerson A, on "Ethics as an Art," and Professor Hill in his Cast lecture on Borodin in the Music Building, one of which should make me cross the Yard.

But hour exams are the icons of Cambridge at present, everyone seems worried because he is not worrying enough, and one hears too much stamping of feet. There is the Fine Arts Museum, even the Assyrian and print collections of which are good on Saturdays, and there are the paintings that bang around the cozy little vestibule of the Metropoliton Theatre.