With the romantic final curtain of Somerset Vaughan's Circle, which is at the Repertory this week, still impressed upon my visual memory, one might suppose my taste for the unreal and for drawing-room comedies would be sated. But at 10 o'clock this morning I shall be found in a far corner of Sever 11 ready to regale myself with Professor Hackett's account of Maximillian's flasco in Mexico. Of all the exotic, unreal, opera bouffe situations this is my favorite.

Until the advent of the talking movie I think that I shall be perfectly satisfied to confine my cinema-going to Fine Arts 1d and Professor Edgell. In Fogg at 11 o'clock the sculpture of the Italian Renaissance will be treated with more justice and illumination in 50 minutes than it receives in a week of lectures elsewhere. The day seems to have turned into a delightful performance of the graceful and the exquisite.

Mexico provided Maximilian with a background of nice contrasts; Renaissance Italy did as much for sculpture. And at noon, in the Music Building, twentieth century America will furnish the screen before which Professor Hill will parade selections from Chopin.

The morning promises to put me in precisely to put me in precisely the right mood for the preciositer of student verse. So, at 2 o'clock, I intend to expand genially in Sever 5 while Mr. Hillyer reviews the work which the virtuozl of the college have contributed for English 16.

If I had no Fine Arts 1d I should go to the movies at the Union. Instead 8.15 o'clock will find me in the Music Building, this time for the last of the annual series of Whiting concerts. The day will have been a pleasant and well-rounded entity, tinged only with the regret that there are no more Whiting concerts for this season.