I suppose that the vast host of students who make up my unseen audience will want an explanation for my long and continued silence. There have been several reasons why I couldn't oblige you and my publishers with my works of erudition. In the first place my Sanctum in Lowell House tower of late has been far from the haven of peace I hoped it would be. Recently rumblings of a high table reached my attentive ears. I followed up this matter in the hope that I might pass on to you something of value. I was thwarted, not through lack of vigilance, but rather because my active mind uncovered nothing of lasting worth in the idea. I understand, though, that there is much comment and more downright censure of the institution from those who sit a little lower than the angels. Another reason for my long silence lies in the fact that the value of several of my articles was questioned by my publishers.

This afternoon, however, I roused myself from bed, I get little sleep at night now what with Lowell House revelers welcoming the dawn, and book himself down the tower ladder, all beautifully set about with orange lights, and made my way to the court yard. After basking in the sunlight for a moment, I made my way about the Yard, which is grievously changed these days. I find, after careful research that tomorrow there will appear at Sever 11 at 2 o'clock Mr. Harry Irvine the actor. He will talk on an undetermined subject. He has played, in the past with my old friend Herbert Tree and with Forbes Robertson, known to me by reputation only. I recommend him to my disciples. He has many pungent reminiscences worth the hearing.