6 TEE HESPERIAN if, i b.: f tlieso qualities, and hnvo exorcised them in an extraordinary degree We anticipate therefore nothing less than a year of success ful effort, which will bring to each and all of you tho pleasure which conies with ad vancement and growth in capacity and power. In all this let us aid you all wo can. Let tho relations between instructors and in structed bo marked, as heretofore, by confi dence, esteem and hearty good-will. The year will pass all to quickly. At its close it will be well indeed if each of us can say, "I have done what I could." James H. Canfield. WHAT YOU WILL. The most pitiable of all human beings under the sun, more pitiable than Russian washer-women or college journalists, is (ho new student. Ho is pitiable because every body is under contract to bore him, and he is more pitiable becjmso he is constitution ally obliged to boro himself. The effusive welcome of a thousand or more people on the ground that he is a now student and his name will help out tho catalogue, is enough of a burden. But the worst of it all is that ho is new. His clothes are new, his shoes are new, his hat is new, he is all new, and uncomfortable. Even his name takes on an unknown sound and he wishes that someone would call him Jim or Joe or Charlie instead of that strange, queer name, Mr. He's hardly ever heard that name before aud he doesn't know whether it is his or not. He hasn't come for glory, as if he were a senior. He has come to learn, poor fellow. He de sires to know what a cosine is, and a gerund ive, and a co-ed, and the Chance, and Polly Con, and Psych, and Lit, and Lab, and all the other mysteries of our higher education. Just think of all he'll know before the end of tho year perhaps. "Well, we'll not make fun of him much. It is a time-honored custom that ho should be joked a little. But deep down in our hearts we have an admiration for him, be ho over so now, provided ho does not wear kid gloves and part his hair in tho middle. If ho does that there's no hope for him. He'll never bo anything but now though ho lives to bo a senior and comes back to post. They all como back to post, those now alumni of ours, just as chickens come homo to roost. When the world turns thom a cold shoulder and all its shoulders are cold these days when, in more euphonious English, they can't find a job, then their hearts all turn backward figuratively speaking to these old halls and faces, where they know a cold shoulder can't be turned to them; and so they como. They are not new students. There is a very unmistakable air about thom. uYe rocks and crags and chimney stacks, I'm witli you once again," is written in every line of their beaming faces. They know all the uProfs.," and where all tho "Labs" are, and speak with utter compla cency to the "Chance" or of him. They take it easy, because, forsooth, they can, which is the most human trait they ever ex hibited. They don't have to think about credit. They don't have to take conflicts with their dinner hour. They can carry un limited hpurs of bench work on the campus and hall work in the hall. And they know so much more than the rest of us. They know it all except a great deal they have forgotten and a little of tho higher mysteries they have come back to fathom now. There was one class in the University which began its work long before anything else was going. That was the class in bench work out on the campus, the favorite study of nearly everyone. They began work early Monday morning the 17th, they kept it up every hour of the day and some hours of tho night. Their zeal never flagged. They put in enough hours to carry them through, if tho credit committee only saw it that way. But wo wish to warn all new students against those benches. They are the most demoral izing thing, with the exception of chapel hour, that there js on the campus. The