THE HESPERIAN.
6
fair co-ed hired the brother to steal the hat in order that you
might stay longer. Of course you were grateful to her and
all that.
Rut the next time you called you might make the dis
covery that the kid brother had taken the handle from the
doorbell. Did you not feel reluctant to believe that the co
ed had hired him to do that? Perhaps this sar.c brother
previous to your call, locked the door and hid the key.
Were your suspicions ever aroused? You arc not at all cm
harassed when the small brother slips under the piaro and
makes the room -echo with impromptu solos, by which his
sorrow and anger are alternately evinced.
The small brother is always in a position where he can
watch proceedings when you prepare to leave. He is
furnished with a goon supply of table talk for the next day.
The small boy can sec more things through a keyhole than
an ordinary student can sec through a bay window.
It' is doubtful whether a small brother can ever be
forgiven.
" Consolation may be had by hoping that he in turn may
be brought to grief, through the plottings of some one else's
small brother.
, A cadet officer despises the small boy of this city. He
looks with contempt upon the youngster, roaming the streets
and playing marbles in back alleys. The cadet has good
cause for such feelings1
The small boy, however, admires a cadet officer. He
deems the cadet to be a great man, worthy of emulation.
Yes, the fact that the small boy imitates the cadet, is too
true. This is what rouses the cadet's wrath. But the small
boy can never understand why such enmity should exist
between himscli and the cadet.
One of the cadet officers donned his new uniform the
other afternoon and started to the campus. Brass buttons,
white stripes, gold cord, etc., made him an attractive object.
Indeed, he was fair to look upon. He marched with preci
sion and soldierly step. In his mind he regularly called out,
"Hp, hep, hep!" The cadet thought he was getting there.
So was the small boy.
The cidet was half-way to the campus before he realized
how important a position he was holding. But with this
knowledge came disgust, rage and chagrin. At that moment
he would have exchanged his uniform for the patched clothes
of a bricklayer's clerk. He would have preferred the position
of a Lincoln scavenger to that of a cadet officer.
As the officer swung around the corner he encountered a
motley procession. It was composed of seven small boys,
two tin horns, one tin pan, two drums, one wooden gun and
one tin sword. This procession was a campaign club of
Young Americans; rather, they were young heathen in the
officer's opinion.
The procession of small boys halted and gazed at the
officer with admiration. As soon as he passed that proces
sion turned and followed in single file, to the noise of the
tin pan, horns and drums. In vain the officer swore and
prayed. That procession was with him to stay. Every kid
exerted himself to take as long step as possible and make as
much noise as possible. It was seldom they had such a
chance to march under the command of a uniform officer,
and a University senior at that.
The small boys procession followed the officer down to 0
street. Then a kind policeman, after enjoying the fun for a
few moments, dispersed the procession. The cadet officer
went on his way with sadness in his heart. You cannot hire
that officer to wear his uniform down town again for love nor
money. Such is the greatness that is thrust upon a cadet.
UP PIKE'S PEAK.
It is my purpose to toll my student friends of a trip 1
took, in company with a party of well known Lincolnites- a
trip very common here, that is as to destination, not so
frequent as to the time and way of going. How well I shall
succeed the result must show; credit the mistakes to the netv
ousness of "a green hand."
At precisely 5:25 p. m., on Friday, July 20, 1888, the
following party left Manitou for a walk up Pikes Peak: Mr.
T. Marsland, Mr. Herbert Marsland, Misses Ethel, Gertrude
and Fannie Marsland, Guy O. Hale, Eugene Brown and the
writer all, as I said, of Lincoln. Our outfit consisted of
food for three meals, rubber coats, and a photographic appar
atus, while each carried a staff five or six feet long, to aid in
climbii.g over rough places. We started off in good spirits',
and soon reached the iron spring, where we met some
people, who, seeing us equipped for a journey, asked our
destination. On being informed that we were going to try
to walk to the summit of the Peak before sunrise next day,
they exclaimed with astonishment, equalled only by their
grammatical inexactness, "What, them girls!" Them
girls" assured them that it was their fixed purpose to make
the ascent, and we left them wondering what insane asylum
had broken loose. Just as we reached the "Toll Gate""we
met Rev. Dr. Curtis, and his hearty greeting and sincere
good wishes did much toward removing the unpleasant
impression lelt by the scoffers at the iron spring. "
The road to the Peak leads up over three huge terraces',
each three miles or more in length, and all more or less
precipitous. Half a inile above the iron spring the trail
begins, and begins very steeply, too. For the first three
miles the ascent is as abrupt as any on the whole road and
some of it is pretty steep, I can assure you.
We climbed steadily for two hours; when we came to the
top of the first terrace. At 8 a'clock we reached the Half
Way House. Here the inquiry made at the iron spring as to
the purpose of the young ladies was repeated, and with the
same lack of grammatical exactness. We rested for a few
minutes and then went on again. We walked steadily for
an hour and stopped to eat lunch and to rest for the har'd
climb before us. We built a fire, and, after we had catch",
we lay in its cheerful blaze, and talked, and sang, and told
stories till eleven o'clock came. Then the word was given,
'Forward March." Just as we started the moon came out
from behind the clouds, and added her glories to the night;
shrouded beauties ol the landscape, while her full brightness
made the trail much plainer and the walking easier. For an
hour the walking was fairly good and we got on famously','
but soon we struck the second terrace, and then again we
had to climb, this time over stones and fallen trees. For an
hour this lasted, and to add to the fatigue and discomfort of
the uphill road, was the lack of water. One a. m. and we
were at timber line, at the big spring and nearly to "Windy
Point." To the right and above was the bare mountain';
on. the left, the silent forest stretching down to the valley
through which we had come; ahead, and a little to the left,
Lake Moraine glittered frostily in the moonlight; the whole
a picture of transcendent loveliness.
It was now tolerably evident that some of the party were
going to "play out," and that those who did reach the top had
a hard climb before them. Still we all kept on till 2
o'clock. Then three of the party gave up, and after finding
a sheltered nook in the rocks, bade the rest go on without
them. It was 2:15 when we left them and started on the last
stretch to the summit, over the third and steepest terrace.
It seemed as though each step must bring us to the top; so