It is a long time since the Vagabond has allowed himself to slip into one of those moods in which he contents himself with watching the smoke float ceilingwards. Sentimentalism is rather apt to get the upper hand at such moments and it is all too easy for an old fellow to become roseate. So the Vagabond has kept busy with his lectures and his books and left sessions with a pipe to Old Mother Advocate who has been addicted to such whims these many years.
But after two months of mundane activity it is time to stop, and as it were, take stock. Being occupied is not the sole requisite for a Vagabond's happiness, no indeed. Unless his memory fails him, life was better ordered back in the old days when he had his rooms in Memorial Hall Tower, when he spent his casual hours in the Yard, and the more important ones in his easy chair.
Ah, there's a sore point: the old rover is homesick. With the best of intentions and a desire to keep pace with progress he packed himself off to Lowell House last year, determined to take part in the new Harvard. But after all, it's pretty hard to teach an old dog new tricks and, frankly, the Vagabond is not happy in his new lodgings, even the men who paint his tower have conspired to make him blue. The youngsters round about him seem happy, but the sound of insular accents and the sight of foreign customs are too much for an old traditionalist. And so, as the bells come in, the Vagabond goes out, back to Memorial Hall, that symbol of an old-and-not-to-be-despised Harvard.
He moved into the old diggings last night and found things much as he had left them. There, perhaps, he can light his pipe and put his feet upon the mantle with the old spirit and find time to digest a bit of his learning. When, and if, he gets back from New Haven Sunday he'd be glad to see a few of the old friends at the old stand.
"The Parthenon and Its Later History," Professor Chase, Fogg Large Lecture Room.
"Spanish Romanesque Painting," Professor Post, Fogg Small Lecture Room.