THE VAGABOND

As Vag shuffled through the leaves which lay strewn on the path in the Yard, he noted a High School freshman walking towards him. There was nothing extraordinary about that, as it was nearing 2:30 o'clock, but then he noted a History One syllabus under the youth's arm. "These Freshmen are getting younger and younger each term," he exclaimed. The incident quickly slipped from his mind as he headed towards Mass. Hall, and then turned in between Hollis and Harvard. As he passed the doorway of Holden Chapel, with its white and black sign proclaiming the transformation to a "U.S. Navy Storeroom," he looked up to note half a dozen tots and their mamas mounting the steps of PBH. "These freshmen are really getting young," he commented to himself, in search of an inward chuckle.

But his self-termed "dry humor" turned into curiosity as he spotted another family group rounding the corner. He had not been in PBH for several months--not since the spring, in fact,--and refused to believe that the needy came directly to the red brick beehive for aid. An immediate investigation seemed in order. As he struggled with the heavy green outer doors, he muttered something about "why don't they oil these things," and staggered on through.

When he entered, a noisy hub-bub of women's voices struck his ears, and turning to the left, he saw the tea-and-conference room converted into a bridge parlor. Dozens of women were chatting and playing cards. Looking to his right, he saw the former general office room converted into a lounge. gone were the efficient desks. The days of youth conferences, with their headquarters in PBH seemed gone. Where the chairman of the speakers' committee, a German-class acquaintance of Vag's used to recruit students for discussions of foreign policy, controversies over the latest style hat now rage. Just then another mother entered with her child. "Pardon me, but could you tell me where you are going?" he asked as politely as he could. "Why, yes, I am taking my child to the Phillips Brooks House nursery."

"The draft board obviously wants to keep their eyes on the as yet untapped pools of manpower," commented Vag as he strode out. "This place ain't what it used to be."