"T
TUB II K 8 P KJ 1 A N
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Iti.vby's Retreat.
Be happy look pleasant !
Bury your troubles but don't sit on
their grave to bo haunted by their ghosts.
WkATHEK A LA NKHHA8KA.
I take up my pen while the beautiful snow
Whisks in, and the glad sleighbells riug,
Hut there gleams in tho hoavon's coronal bow,
So I write a poem on spring.
Durvs Oam..
I hear, ili clearer than words can call
The crash, bang, whang of tho old call bell,
As the hour draws rouud.
My nerves are shakou and shattered, unepun;
I am summoned to answer for deeds left undone
At the old bell's sound.
Mascot fok Ponck ik Lkon.
The old sage who sought for that bright, "fount
of youth"
Ami to find it ihe broad ocean crossed,
Might have realized hope had he seen Howard's
Tt1a.sk
t'one-alisl down .,t I'uradise Lost.
ho following diligently solicited ans
jvers have eomo in response to our circu
""' question, "what, is a kicker" .
good ,S' li,,k(M': is nn insPiration t0
- K. Pearson: A kicker is a long-ear-
'(! boast,
ihi'J' .Boow (from observation): A
'"w PPpintPd office-seeker.
i. larmalee: A commissioned cadet.
. Mumtord (from experience): A
nmW eleven shoo.
geo .Shedd: A sure-goal half-back.
" v. nnkorton: 1 agreo with Pear
son.
poKiiil;I1Sc,,,reo"s Ifc is a ,nnch fear6d
4S fe-patient" fore-
A. Riloy: A dissatisfied advertiser.
Hvei. 1011s A House ol' Kepresentn-
ffrrnSi -iustly jiidge
trilo ftein7r0ngs of Exile"
Department delivered itself of
another volume of pooins, "The Sub
stance of His Houso."
Now one would know to read these rhymes
Where pessimistic daemons yawn,
That they were writ for other climes
Where men had all their wits tu pawn.
May next tho book that swells the pile,
Belched forth into our literature,
Sing sweet the nnssago of a smile
And loud extol the 'Laughter Cure'.
KKEDV MOUItNS FOtt ItOOMKIt.
Farewell, companion of my heart
Thon sharer in my fondest joys,
Now who will rise my lire to start,
Or who will start to lire tho boys.
Farewell companion of my lite,
For theo 1 shed remorseful tears
Tho while I hunt another wife
The thoughts of thee shall bless my years.
Sympathy sweet Sympathy
I saw that face with its miser frown
With its Hood gates of feeling all shut down, -
Eyes barren of meaning and empty their glare
The form bowed, secretively, and weighted with
care.
'The soul in it- prison may languish and high,
The soul-light for want of true symyathy die;
'Who is itV you nsk-nh, dear student let's own
That in vain we have tried to bear burdens alone
Let us smile as we pass may our sympathy
warm
Prove the true burden -bearer, the student-life
charm;
Let us mirror our sunshine with joy all replete
In the faces and lives of tho students wo meet.
SWEET CIIAMTY.
Few there arc of all I ween,
Whose Uni. course has reached its close,
Hut one day sat in room eighteen,
And saw the dust on Caesar's nose.
Oneo Caesar's wars had charms for mu,
But my ardor it has froze,
To sit before his bust and see
Tho smears of dust about his nose.
There's dust about his face, that's true;
There's also some on Cicero's;
But worst of all tho dust in view
Is that which covers Caesar' nose.
Perhaps there'll come a time some day
It may come soon, who knows
When Uni. can afford to pay
To clean tho dust from Caesar's nose.
But if the time shall never como
When this fair state can spare tho dougu(s;
And fortune should upon mo smile
(As 1 have reason to suppose,)
Ml set a half a million by
To wipe the dust from Caesar's nose.
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