The Vagabond spent yesterday morning in a vain effort to solve the problem of his rooming accommodations for this year. The best location, judged from a physical standpoint, is the pump shack by Appleton Canyon in the Yard. But there the miniature landscape even now is cluttered by a few early Freshmen. One of them asked Mr. Apted, who was loitering around, if he would care to join him in a round of peewee golf; freshmen must band together, you know, we're all Harvard men now.
On the other hand, the pagoda on Bow Street is very handy to the Cambridge Gas and Electric Light Company (Plympton Street elevation) and to the First National Bank of Adams House. But the Vagabond dislikes the sound of riveters. He tossed a coin. When it rolled down the sewer he took the first train for the New Hampshire hills and spent the afternoon wondering if telegraphically transmitted copy would be full of errors. It seems it is.