Apprehended in his Claverly Hall rooms by a posse of newspapermen, L. Esprit Gaulois, master of Cambridge illuminant, versed the opinion yesterday that "Gathering rosebuds while ye may should pay off come Valentine's Day."
Hastily procuring an oilskin wallet from his paisley smoking jacket, he withdraw from it the assorted collection of bizarre photographs he usually employs to punctuate his salon talks, and spoke at length on the culture, background, and Versatility of the "Contemporary college girl."
"Sophocles Plsto, Moliere,
and Gaulois have all gone into the making of those women," he declared, pursing his fingers in his familiar Gallic attitude. "He who says that Radcliffe girls are born, not made, knows not whereof he walls," Gaulois continued.
Recalling with some pride his adventures in local boudairs and bagnios, he offered what he described as "humble but trenchant" advice to aspirants of the higher life: "Keep your hair long, and your fingers nails long," he said. "Remain at room temperature but warm before serving. Wear a blue blazer and gay-flannel ducks."
Questions as to methods of approach, escape from public surveillance, and strategy for severing connections were waved aside as Gaulois' own gray-flannel ducks, Leo and Harvey, waddled in from the foyer. Harvey laid a pin-striped egg