THE HESPERIAN
window-pane. Margaret was showing the
sandy rascal a letter, and now they were
bending over it altogether. A big square
envelope lay on the table. The letter,
Thomas knew, was the one that ho had
given her the day ho left. No one else had
a right to see it. Who in the world was
that scoundrel, and what did ho want?
So he stood and watched until the ten-day
clock told twelve and the Irishman had parted
with Margaret most affectionately; then he
turned and stumbled into the dark wood
shed where he lay, a poor, homeless outcast.
Whether ho slept or not, we canuot say;
but one is not likely to when a figure steals
close by one and then a window scrapes and
drags, and again the figure passes by cau
tiously and slowly, with a box under its
arm, just faintly visible in the early morning
light.
But the sleeper himself had walked, per
haps, in his sleep; at least, ho had had his
revenge in a dream, and a cunning, queer
smile passed across the face that rested un
comfortably against a block of wood.
It was morning now, and Margaret and
Johnnie and a host of neighbor women were
busy in the kitchen and all over the little
house.
At noon a table set in the hall trembled
beneath the weight of the concocted dainties
of a dozen households. Margaret had on a
bright green silk dresfftrimmed with swan's
down. "Oh, you look elegant," said Mrs.
Briggs, "and that is his favorite color too."
Indeed it was not. Thomas Turner liked
sea-blue the best, and he had always said so
too.
But, although Johnny and the neighbor
women, and the minister who happened also
to bo there, thought Margaret very pretty,
and the frequent odorous whiif from the hall
suggestive and appetizing, yet they were all
growing weary of waiting so long for some
one else. Margaret, too, was getting im
patient. Suddenly the door opened and in walked
Thomas Turner.
uO Tom, Tom!" screamed, laughed and
sobbed the surprised wife as she fell into her
husband's arms; and ho held the green form
there so recklessly and long that the folds of
the crisp green silk hung limp and crushed,
and the swan's-down was pressed quite fiat.
It is strange that the invited friends should
have been so considerate, but they left the
two alone except for Johnny who sat there
stiff and owl-eyed.
So Johnny's father and mother were again
united and, I think, were moderately happy;
for he now had his long lost pipe and she had
one just like it.
And Thomas Turner kept his long Dutch
pipe beside his wife's in a square oaken box
that Johnny found one day lying under a
pile of old kegs and boxes near the wharf
His wife started when she saw it, but he
only smiled comfortably and drew out of his
pocket a thick, time-worn wallet.
Amy C. Bruner.
THE LAW SCHOOL OBJECTS.
To the Editor of The Hesperian :
In a recent number of the Nobraskan I
find the following editorial:
"The Seniors have, we think, acted wisely in
drawing the line as sharply as possible between
the Academic and Industrial colleges and the
College of Law. They have decided to ignore
the members of the Law School in the matter of
commencement invitations and class day
exercises. A college education is something
entirely different from a professional education.
We might as well offer a six months' course in
book keeping and call that a college education.
The requirements for admission to the Law
School and to the Preparatory department are
the same. The law student need not be a college
man, in fact he seldom is. They should have a
separate commencement. The Senior who has
spent one or two years in the Law School should
not have the honor of graduating with the
student who has earned his sheep-skin by four or
six years o) hard work. Either the requirements
for admission to the Law School should be raised
or the faculty should provide for separate days of
graduation."
In view of recent developments among
