The Vagabond has become firmly convinced that the hand of a kind fate withheld him from taking up a permanent residence in Lowell House tower. He was contemplating the change as late as last Spring, due to the fact that the hourly booming of Memorial Hall bell was beginning to wear a little on his sensitive nerves. At the last minute he decided to remain true to his traditional abode. Indeed how inscrutable are the workings of a benevolent Providence.

In the last two days the Vagabond has been looking into this carrillon question. He has discovered, among other things, that every good musical bell should have five distinct tones, all in harmony, and he has also found that the lower the tone of the bell, the more difficult to distinguish the different tones. Now the Vagabond makes no claim to being a carrilloneur, but he can hear a quantity of quite superfluous tones in the bass bell of Lowell House. And since there are five tones to each bell and there are nineteen bells, that would make ninety-five tones if the bells were perfectly tuned; but since they don't seem to be properly tuned . . . but why go into higher mathematics?

Up till this point the Vagabond realizes he has been engaged in purely destructive criticism. What to do about it? Well, he remembers, in his youth, a picture entitled "Curfew Shall not Ring To-Night", showing a beautiful maiden clinging to the clapper of a large church bell. On nights when the Lowell bells threaten to ring the authorities might send over to Radcliffe for nineteen beautiful maidens--but then this suggestion, too, seems to present some peculiar difficulties.

Today

10 o'clock

"Chaucer's Troiluo and Criseyde," Dr. Spencer, Sever 9.

11 o'clock

"Austro-Hungarian Empire," Professor Arts, Harvard 1.