Frank Merriwell, who, along with Dink Stever, has been for years and years the Classic Yale man of fiction, and whose adventures at Mory's in the Old Brick Row, in Professor Beer's classes and at Harvard football games, in those days played at Springfield, have been familiar to countless readers since the middle '90s, will shortly appear upon the screen and over the radio in strictly modern dress. No longer a part of the New Haven tradition of bulldogs and turtle-necked sweaters, when the original Mortaritya and their golden lucks were a fragrant reality and when fence rush and freshman fraternities both flourished as glorious campus institutions. Frank is being brought up to date by Gilbert Patten, who created him under the name of Burt L. Standish. Now he will probably live in his rewritten version in Harkness Brick Court, exercise under the eagle eye of Bob Kiphuth in the new Whitney Memorial Gymnasium and snatch a toasted bun for breakfast at the new Ac Longley's, where Mrs. Graves is no longer cashier.

Just, however, as there would be something incongruous in Dink Stover's making his hideous blunder of giving two girls a lift in a straight-eight roadster, so Frank will look just a thought uncomfortable in the polo coat and pleated trousers of contemporary collegiate fashion. While he flourished mightily in an era when undergraduates sat along the campus fence and sang "Integer Vitae" and "Freshmen, Wake" of an evening, he could never be quite at home in the Dizzy Club while on a Manhattan week end, or participating in a perfumed and platinum Whitney Avenue cocktail party. A more ingenuous age was Frank's setting, and for him platinum blondes could never spell romance or contract bridge be the most exciting of pastimes. The New York Herald-Tribune.