The Vagabond

9th. Stayed up last night writing an unpleasant little piece for Mr. Brinton's course. Three drafts and it was still horrible, wrote it all over again in the early morning hours and clipped it together without looking and handed it in.

In the afternoon very drowsy and draped self on davenport, listening to the radio. Three minutes of Benny - Goodman - Hal - Kemp - Bing - Crosby - Fats - Waller - Shep - Fields - and - his ripplingrhythm - Muzzy - Muzzolino - Mussolini - whatever - it - is. Three minutes of spiel - MEN! smoke Webster - the All-American cigar . . . . The third race at Hialeah . . .--Have you tried Carter's Little Liver Pills . . . .?

Off to sleep and wake up again when H--comes in, suggests excursion into town. Pull myself together and a sprinkle of cold water on my face does wonders, and we go to Boston. H--is buying a Christmas present for his baby niece in Omaha. He picks out a wooly white cat, very gaga, with green wool eyes. The cat and H--and I stop for a milkshake, my half-eclipsed condition precluding more nocuous refreshment.

To dinner in the House and afterwards to my Attic to smoke for a minute, when H--and I go off again--to the movies. Franchot Tone very amusing, poor ex-idol Clark Gable on the way down hill. On the way home talk about Douglas Fairbanks in "Robin Hood"--wish they would remake "Robin Hood". With anybody but Fred March. So to bed at no later than eleven for a sweet night's sleep . . . .