The Vagabond

Manhattan was not all lights for the Vagabond. The old fellow--as his friends well know--really doesn't belong with Father Knickerbocker's distortions of a rip roaring time; at least not after a night or so of it. So what did the whimsy Vagabond do but up and away with his little brother to the zoo.

The chief charm of the Bronx is the zoo. And, gentle readers, isn't that what makes the Vagabond the charming old rascal that he is--that he likes such things? What's the Cotton Club compared to a cage of acrobatic monkeys? Feed a fair one at the Ritz at two-fifty a plate; feed the animals in the zoo--but they won't let you--at five cents a bag--and much more fun! Philosopher thou art right: How distorted our sense of values is! Then on Friday the Vagabond heard Rudy Vallee at the Waldorf; on Sunday--with his little brother--he heard the braying of imported jackasses from Sumatra. The zoo is a delightful place. And, again, so very inexpensive too!

All this is really preliminary to saying that the Vagabond is happy to be back again and in the scholastic harness. Tonight he will sleep in his four poster and dream sweet dreams and maybe a nightmare or two--there is always the game. And tomorrow he will awake and, still with mixed thoughts of Manhattan, be off to see some "Moving Pictures of African Wild Life." The Vagabond feels this will be a relief after his escapade to the City.

Professor Thomas Barbour can be counted on for an interesting lecture. The pictures and the lecture will take place in the Biological Laboratory at 5 o'clock tomorrow.