It was not without pleasure that the Vagabond arrived in Cambridge a day or so ago. For it turned out that it was the same old place that it had always been. Or, literally speaking, similar in its differences. A couple of Freshmen were wandering about with their mothers; one, smiling knowingly and signifying the New Indoor Athletic Building, confidentially informed the mater that "the Master of this House even had a private swimming pool", some friend had told him.
And the old Appleton, gone but not forgotten--what was the scandal they were having up there . . . something about carpenters and plasterers, or was it about a memorial that the real argument had been? Anyway, it seemed that the workmen had walked out one morning. It was perfectly familiar down on Plympton street, too having heaps of saud, and workmen blocking traffic. Cagey system building the pagoda in between Russell and Westmorly, then tearing down Russell, cutting a big hole in the pagoda right off, so as to connect things . . .
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Mr. Job to Lecture on Thursday
