Vag was tired of going to regular lectures; he was tired of listening to professors trying to impress students with unconvincing ideas. Vag often felt like this, and when he did he always had a particular rule to go by: When you feel one lecture pall, stay at home and cut them all. Naturally, this rule was easy to follow and Vag would certainly have spent the day comfortably at home had it not been for the Crimson notice: Robert Frost will speak on "perfection of Sympathy." Vag decided he would have to change his mind and hear this one. Rules were really made to be broken.

Nor did the rationalizing of his change of mind stop there: Vag had a keen sense of justice and he didn't like to be prejudiced in his judgement. In all the times that he had attended Frost's lectures through the fall, he had never been bored by dogmatism. "Take it or leave it" was the poet's principle. Frost always seemed cavalier about the whole thing. That was it, cavalier. Mr. Frost had used the word himself--students should all take a cavalier attitude toward their work, letting what stuck, stick, and forgetting the rest. It was a perfect formulation of the Vagabond's own epistemological theory.

Indeed, Vag had always had a feeling of kinship with Frost, the patron saint of all vagabonds . . . that would be a good idea, too: asking Frost to be the Honorary Chairman of his one-man organization. He'd heard a lot about one-man organizations recently. Anyway, Vag decided that he must hear Frost tonight, and planned to get there early, sit in front and watch the subtle, humorous play of expression over the poet's face when he spoke, Adams House tonight at eight.