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The Vagabond

COCKLESHELL AND STONE

Beyond him lie the treacherous traffic rapids of Kosciusko Square, beyond the uncharted, teeming hinterlands of Langdell, Walter Hastings, and the Music Building--a truly blood-chilling panorama. Behind him lie the gray Azores of Phillips Brooks House and the quiet harbors of the Yard. But, Columbus-like, the Vagabond pushes on into the unfamiliar waters ahead. Tacking unskillfully along the North Cambridge car line, Vag's frail cockleshell almost at once encounters a large white island; whose towering stone cliffs rise perpendicular from the water's edge. San Domingo, perhaps? No, young Columbus, it is on the map as Littauer Center. It is a new island in these parts. It is very long and solid and important-looking. It will be a wonderful place to land for an excursion sometime soon when the hand of man has more fully nurtured its interior. But ahoy! Another smaller island slips over the horizon--a different island, built of smaller reddish stones, with a sign which labels it Hemenway Gym. It has a crow's nest on top, and it, too, is yet unfinished by man's hand in the interior. Vag makes a mental note that it will make a fine camping ground for a winter afternoon and marks it on his chart. Then, night having fallen, and the navigation hazards consequently having increased, he sets the homeward course to his own private penthouse island, reckoned directly due south from the old Harvard Hall buoy. . . .

Today at high noon by the chronometer, the Vagabond will cruise to Robinson Hall to hear Professor Martin Wagner, of the Department of Regional Planning, lecture (without slides) on the derivation of the principal visual elements of modern architecture from the changed conditions of living characteristc of the twentieth century. Bolstered by this new knowledge, Vag, is sure that he will be able to steer a better architectural course around these new building-islands which are springing up in these University waters.

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