Years ago, before the mossless rolling stone was rampant on the shield of this particular vagabond the rolling Easter egg held sway. Painted in gaudy and inedible colors, the largest duck eggs were brought every Easter Monday by an Easter rabbit, and reckless little boys tried unsuccessfully to eat them. My pursuit of golden eggs in those days was as ardent as it is today.

There is very little novelty in this business of growing up. Many who used to be interested in Easter eggs are still interested in eggs, and egg-eating contests, and I who reveled in the colors of Easter eggs must regret the black and white slides which Professor Edgell will show in Fogg this morning. The Florentine paintings which will be shown at 11 o'clock this morning deserve a better fate.

Before my trip to Fogg I shall be found in Emerson D, where I look forward to the glowing colors in which Professor Hecklers will paint the critical idealism of Kant. Since Professor Murray has reached the keystone in his course on the drama in England until 1642 I cannot deny myself the privilege of a new attitude Shakespeare. So, the 12 o'clock bell will send me to Harvard 3.

If the day proves as fair as yesterday afternoon, I am sure I shall not have enough attension left by 2 o'clock or Attention which is the subject of Professor MacDougall's lecture in Emerson D.