It was one of the fullest days that has ever passed. It started yesterday morning when the official receiver roused himself even before the cock knew it was daylight and hastened to meet a train. A crop of photographers had been carefully informed to the second of the time the train arrived. They were at the station seven minutes before--a marvelous feat, the representative came two minutes later--still more marvelous, but the train had crossed both and arrived ten minutes early . . .

Registration reminded one of Memorial Hall in September, except that hawkers crying "Buy the Lampoon" and "Read the Advocate" were absent. Not even Max Keezer stood outside and smiled patiently. Students from distant lands held maps and gazed about Plympton Street as if it were the "dead end" of Cambridge. . .

Buzzing furiously, the crowds at luncheon sawed into pre-natal talk of the discussions to come . . .

Gathered about large tables, with matches scratching and cigarette ashes rapidly filling trays, the five groups seemed curiously like bees intent on building up the honey of truth . . .

At dinner the conversation was as varied as the conversants. Shirley Temple and the Supreme Court; "Last Year's Kisses" and Professor So-and-So; the tax on undistributed corporate earnings and the virtues of Pine Manor; all met in mid-air with remarkable harmony . . .

The speeches were the words of professionals, of men who knew the human side of their work as well as the technical, and some of their words moved. Facilely the head of the University saw in the meeting the embryonic idea of a brilliant educational innovation: the School of Public Administration. Two other views were presented with clarity and deep understanding such as proceed from long experience and reasoning. From two different angles an approach to the practicable ideal of security and happiness was impressed upon a growing generation . . .

Such was the Vagabond's impression of the first day of the H-Y-P conference.