I am not a moving picture enthusiast. Yet, be it said in all frankness, I am from time to time led to contemplation of the so-called silver screen by the varagies of my vagabondage as well as by the fancies of my friends.

Little, however, as I frequent the palace of the tabloid drama, I have been strongly impressed by one thing: in every picture that I can remember having seen, the writer of the scenario seems to have been constrained to include a banker of an invariably constant type. There is a je ne sais quoi about the moving picture financier which never fails to irritate me. I have tried to find a reason for this badge of the banker, but have failed. So this morning at 9 o'clock, any one who so desires may see me enter the portal of Harvard 1 to learn whether the answer to my question can be found in Professor Gray's lecture in Economics 2 on Money and Banking in the United States.

A vagabond's life is romantic if it is anything, and a vagabond who does not lock up to the more renowned members of his genus is nothing.

Now there are those who although they may not bear the outward sign of the rolling stone are still of the ancient order spiritually. Yet when there stands before the figure of one who was a true vagabond inwardly as well as outwardly, we cannot but do him reverence. Such a one was Chateaubriand a man whose I fe was a series of magnificent gestures and of him I go at 12 o'clock to hear Professor Babbitt speak in Comparative Literature 11 in Harvard 1.