The Vagabond is low in his mind; a situation which is exceedingly serious in the case of one whose eyes are habitually fixed on the furthest nebulae. His present intellectual depression is the result of a surfeit of extreme contrasts, a diet upon which he has subsisted entirely since returning to Widener's profound shades.

The original shock was the gloomy contrast of his now flaccid purse with the sleek one he formerly possessed prior to paying his first term bill. A bill which included the outrageous addition of rent for the Greek Common Room in Adams House of which he has been the sole occupant during the current season. However the latest and by far the most serious situation, as it is entirely a matter of the Vagabond's personal cosmology, centers in and about the anti-macassar atmosphere of Grays 18, home of history and literature. The collegiate play-boy has at last met with a situation with which he is utterly unable to cope. He has run headlong into a trap masked with the deceptive laurels of a Degree with Honors, which has turned out but another camouflage for those grim gentlemen, The Ancient Authors.

These phantoms appear to be led by one Plato, a philosopher of parts, and one of the world's Great Minds, as the Vagabond has heard. And Plato it is, who is the direct cause of the Nomad' discomfiture.

Happening on a discussion of furniture the Vagabond read further, only to discover that his one Chippendale was not an original but only a distorted image of the Idea of Chippendale. It was too much. The doctrine was dangerous; a threat to every property owner in the state, and a direct challenge to every principle of interior decoration which the Vagabond had gleaned through the open windows of Fogg on a warm spring afternoon.