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f, Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., OCTOBER, 1902. No. I ¥> 

(^ U 


speech delivered by J. R. Countiss in the Mississippi Oratorical 
Contest, Coliitnbus, Miss , May 2d, igoi. 

[It is provided in the Constitution of the Mississippi State Oratorical Association 
that the representatives of the colleges shall have their speeches published in their 
respective college journals some time during the year succeeding the contest.] 

The relation of the American citizen to the Republic is 
fundamental and ali-pervading. He is sponsor for her exist- 
ence; she is guardian of his liberty. In no other State are the 
individual's rights so secure or his duties so important. This 
fact was clearly realized in the early days of this country's his- 
tory, and never did a fond mother give the offspring of her travail 
deeper love than the citizen gave this three-born Republic. 
Never did obedient child strive harder to please a doling parent 
than the infant State labored to meet the demands and gratify 
the wishes of her citizens. Their patriotism was superb; her 
fidelity to their ideals was unfaltering. But these conditions 
have so changed that the citizen is jealous of the increasing 
wealth and power of the State; while the tState fears he may- 
hamper her progress by too free an exercise of his sovereignty. 
Thus is impaired that necessary mutual relation through which 
alone each can attain the highest ends. 

I view this estraogemeut with profoundest alarm. And 
what enemy of liberty has wrought the crime? Should not the 
culprit be searched out and placed under the lash of public 
opinion until he makes full reparation for the wroag? Standing 
hereto-night I declare to the individual citizen, "Thou art the 


man!" As the body cannot fail while the heart sends pure, rich 
blood through its members, neither can the Republic fall while 
vitalized by the intelligent and sympathetic support of the citi- 
zen. First, last and forever, she derives her existence from the 
citizen whose suffrage has given her birth, and he must account 
for her misfortunes. He may delegate for a time his authority, 
but final responsibility rests forever with him. 

And in demanding that the citizen heal his country's ills, I 
do not ask for the impossible. He has passed a century of polit- 
ical experiment; he has out-stripped the world in creative genius 
and inventive power; he ranks with the world's leaders in cul- 
ture, philosophy, and religion; his name is a synonym for indus- 
trial ingenuity and commercial enterprise. Yet he tamely sits 
in professed helplessness while corrupt men minister at the altars 
of the Republic, while anarchy eats its way to the core of the 
government, while the liberties of the people are sacrificed to 
the greed of monopolies, and the highest privileges of freedom 
are committed to polluted aliens unfitted for the rights of citi- 
zenship. Tell me not that the citizen who has hurled back the 
hateful invader, conquered the savage marauder, triumphed 
over internal strife, and transformed the American wilderness 
into a fit garden for the gods — tell me not that such a citizen 
cannot on the overlasting threads of the Constitution weave a 
national fabric as bright as the light and as enduring as the sun. 

Tiie citizen is alienated from politics. The merest cobbler 
on ihe bench keeps in touch with industrial affairs and feeis his 
vital connection with the economic world. But the average 
citizen views the Republic as something apart from himself ; he 
feels that the welfare of the Scate in no way coincides with his 
own. He counts himself a cipher in the political world and 
withholds that personal sympathy, aid, and encouragement 
demanded by his relation to the Republic. 

This explains the widespread and portentous lethargy at the 
polls. The blood oi pairiots has been spilt for manhood's right 
of suffrage. Will the proud victor despise the privilege so 
dearly bought by his ancestors? Already no incentive is strong 
enough to call forth a large per cent, of voters. The best men, 

.ucteo". *=■ 


the most intelligent men, are the ever busiest men, and those absent 
themselves from the polls. Thus the election of officers and the 
moulding of governmental policy are committed to the idle, the 
ignorant and the corrupt. What dangers do not threaten the 
Republic when in Massachusetts, the home of culture and col- 
leges only one voter in six has sufficient patriotism to cast a 
ballot? la Indiana a heated contest between Democrats and 
Republicans calls out but one voter in three, and in other States 
the case is as bad. 

Nor are the best citizens more willing to enter the paid ser- 
vice of the State than to discharge the duties of private indi- 
viduals. Only when reeking corruption smells to heaven will 
men of the highest ability consent to serve as public cfi&cers. 
Even then the service is spasmodic and temporary. Officers are 
cleansed only to be vacated at the end of a single term in 
favor of corruptionists made more greedy by their brief 
retirement. This shrinking from public duty is as disastrous to 
public justice as to public policy. The ablest lawyers find the 
bar more lucrative than the bench, and inferior men are often 
honored with the judicial ermine. Prosperous and intelligent 
citizens find excuse from jury duty, and the great questions of 
right and equity are submitted to professional jurors, court-house 
loafers, and vagabonds. Property rights are settled by paupers, 
and criminals truly are tried by their peers. 

Respectable citizens often violate civil law. Unwise legis- 
lators have flooded the statute books with inferior laws. Feel- 
ing neither reverence nor respect for these laws, good men do 
not sciuple to violate their petty provisions. This gives coun- 
tenance to lawlessness and lends encouragement to anarchy in a 
land where patriotic love for law is the foundation stone of 
liberty. Willful disregard of law and lack of respect for judicial 
machinery inevitably beget maudlin sympathy for criminals. 
Law is deprived of its terrors and punishment is robbed of its 
sting. When thrust behind prison bars, the scornjd outcast 
becomes a social hero. Rarest flowers and costliest delicacies 
are deemed scarcely good enough for the Apollo who has ruined 
a home, the Cioe^us who has wrecked a bank, or the Judas who 


has murdered his fellow. According to this morbid sentiment 
judges and juries, laws aud courts, are mean and false; only the 
criminal deserves esteem. Chicken hearted citizens petition a 
time-serving executive to pardon scoundrels who richly deserve 
their appointed penalties. 

Another self-inflicted curse of the citizen is ignorance. 
Total strangers to political science presume to settle off-hand the 
most intricate problems of government. Men who are well 
informed on other subjects are densely ignorant of political his- 
tory and state-craft. 1'hey hear only partisan lectures and read 
only the bitterest partisan journals. 

The case is bad, but that it is hopeless I am not ready to 
admit. I have unlimited confidence in the possibilities of 
American citizenship. I^et the citizen cast off his lethargy and 
enter politics with the all-conquering force of that unique per- 
sonality that has made him the world's leader in industry and 
commerce. Never in the annals of history has personality 
counted for so m'-ch as it does today. The glories of Manila 
Bay and the thunders of Santiago proclaim the triumph of indi- 
vidual manhood. Schley and his comrades fought as if there 
had been no Samppon on the seas. The time of despotic leader- 
ship is pas"; the day of responsible freemen has dawned. I^et 
Americans meet the issues of the hour as only freemen can! 

The citizen must again learn the value of the ballot. No 
longer should he regard himself as a political fraction, but as 
the unit on which the Republic is founded. Oaly his suffrage 
stands betiveen him and tyranny. Corrupt men will rally a 
horde of foreigners who for a mess of pottage will sell their 
birth-right, whose value tney do not understand. The zeal of 
the citizen to save must exceed the ardor of destroyers. If 
necessary, he must serve as a public officer. The world's highest 
political dignity is to be the chosen representative of a free and 
intelligent people. I honor the scholarly man who could hear 
the call of God in the cry of a great city suffering from corrup- 
tion and misrule, and retire from his exalted academic position 
to wipe out the city's disgrace. Seth Low can do vastly greater 
good as Mayor of New York than as President of the Columbia 


University. Good men must make politics respectable. Great 
corporations should not be allowed to monopolize the brain and 
talent of the country. Young men should profoundly study the 
theory of government and enter politics as a profession. Let 
them strive to be, like Washington, first in peace as first in war, 
then will they indeed have right to the first places In the hearts 
of their countrymen. Glowing panegyrics have been pronounced 
over the sacred dust of those young men who gave themselves a 
willing sacrifice for the freedom of Cuba. I would heap richer 
encomiums and higher tributes on those who give themselves 
heart and soul with unstained honor to the peaceful freedom of 

Respect for law and regard for its penalties should be culti- 
vated. I do not advocate a return to the age when men 
delighted to witness suffering and inflict torture, but I urge the 
exactions of justice as the only antiaote for iDJustice and the 
payment of penalty as the only preventive of crime. If every 
criminal who has friends and relatives Is to be pardoned, we 
had as well bid anarchy welcome. There must be suffering — if 
not of the guilty, then of the innocent and helpless. 

To offset ignorance and partisanship, I would have in every 
chartered college a chair of pulitical science and history, and in 
.Washington City a National School of Civics and Diplomacy. 
The youth of the Republic are being trained in all arts but the 
art of statesmanship, and instructed in ail sciences but the 
science of self government. Two great national institutions 
and a host of lesser schools train men for war, but the Republic 
has no school for peaceful citizenship. The training once 
received in the town meeting must now be secured in schools. 
Men are no more born statesmen than physicians or teachers. 
Freedom may be inherited, but ability to retain it can only be 
acquired by painstaking effort. It is national suicide to entrust 
the government to an untrained populace. If the youth of the 
country are properly trained in the history and traditions of the 
Repnbiic, they will not fail to make it, through all the coming 
years of freedom and justice, the choicest earthly home. But if 
they do fail let the Goddess of I^iberty again cross the seas, lift 


her torch from the despotic realms of the Czar, and proclaim to 
the world that the lordliest of men are but political imbeciles, 
unable to guvern the land their valor has won and their genius 

As I look on my country's needs and listen to her com- 
plaints, I discover gigantic trusts reaping the fruit of the nation's 
industry; I behold great monopolies crying at the doors of the 
national Capitol for protection from honest competition; I see 
powerful political parties clamoring for the spoils of government, 
while red-handed anarchy cries, "Down with the State!" But 
I fear not these. I fear less from trusts than from traitors, less 
from polluted parties than from indifferent voters, and less from 
the anarchist than from the careless citizen. My appeal is not 
to parties but to patriots, not to arms but to activity. 

Oh, my countrymen, a suffering Republic but lately bap- 
tized in her martyred ruler's blood stretches her helpless hands 
to you for aid. In the name of God and home and native land, 
I beg you rise to a man, and, like Hannibal at the altars of 
Carthage, swear she shall not stretch her hands in vain! 


By. . :. 

"I tell you the fellow must be discharged, I have given him 
a fair trial, and I am tired of him," Said Mr. Hazleton, editor of 
The Daily Chronicle, to his daughter Rachel who was often in 
the office and knew all of the employees. 

"Why! Papa what has Mr. lyoraine been doing now to incur 
such great disfavor? I thought he was a good man in the press 

"Yes, the foreman says that he does his work well and is a 
good man anywhere he is placed; but he has been drinking and 
keeping company with toughs, and is not very attentive to busi- 

"So it is drink is it? The Chronicle did not take a very 


active part in the prohibition campaign last year;'now here it Is 
raising a racket because a man on the press gang drinks a little, 
but that's the way with the world", said Rachel. 

"A paper must speak the mind of the general public you 

"Provided it is for the best interest of the paper, "said Rachel 

"Prohibition or no prohibition, I know that a man that 
drinks is not fit for a respectable business, and can't hold a po- 
sition these days even though he be a moderate one. The fact 
of the business is I don't like the fellow any way, he came here 
no one knows how or from where, he shambled into the ofl5ce 
one evening about dark and gave his name as David Ivoralne, 
and wanted work, as Logan needed a man in the press room I 
employed him." 

Just then the door opened and I^oraine entered. He was a 
tall well built man and was what most people would call a 
handsome man. Addressing Mr. Hazleton he said: 

"Mr. IvOgan wishes you to inspect the new press." 

"Very well, I'll go at once. Here I^oraine will you please 
run up these figures while I am gone," said Mr. Hazleton as he 
left the ofiice. 

lyoraine sat down at the desk and added the long columns 
of figures with such speed and skill that Rachel looked on with 
amazement. When he had finished Rachel said: 

"Well Mr. Loraine you seem to know what you are doing. 
I never saw any one handle figures as you do." 

"Yes, I have always been good at figures and rather like 
them. They are so interesting — see here." He reached for a 
pad and displayed such skill that Rachel looked on with won- 
der. "You always find something new, one never tires of expe- 
rimenting with figures,?' he said as he performed various won- 
derful little feats. 

' ' I believe you work on the printing force do you not Mr. 

"Yes, I have been on the force quite a while." 

•'I think that you ought to have a better place, and I would 
like to see you advanced." 


"You would! Said Loraine looking enquiringly." 

"Why, yes, I like to see every one go as high as they can. 
I suppose you can hold a higher place than the one you now 

"Yours are the first words of encouragement that I have 
heard fn many a day. Yes, I suppose I could hold any place 
this paper could give." 

"I suppose you have good friends here among your follow 

"Not much. They all look down on me as a kind of bum, 
and I suppose th-y are about right. I did'nt land in this city 
on the top of an omnibus blowing a bup^le." 

"If I were you I would make them look up instead of 
down," said Rachel. 

"Well, now that's putting it pretty strong. I am beginning 
to think that yon mean what you say, and you make a fellow 
feel like bracing up and making a fight for it; but you don't 
understand," he said, and his eyes had a faraway look in them. 

"I do mean what I say. Suppose you make a fight for it — 
as y u say. I shall be an interested on-looker." Loraine hesita- 
ted. He looked her straight in the eyes. 

"What do you say." said Rachel. 

"I'il do it!" said Loraine. and as he brought his fist down 
on the desk Rachel saw new fire in his eyes. 

Mr, Hazietoa returned and Loraine left the room. 

"Papa, you ought to have seen Mr. Loraine handle those 
columns of figures. I believe that there is something in him 
and if you will give him another chance, and with a little 
encouragement he will develope into a useful man." 

"Bah! I tell you he is no good." 

"Give him another months time anyway, I am becoming 
interested in him," said Rachel. 

"You are always interested in every foot pad and outcast 
that comes along." 

"Well, sympathy is never wasted, I tell you there is moxt 
in Mr, Loraine than you think," said Rachel, 

"Very well, you always have your way; but I think your 
experiment will prove a failure this time," 


Next morning I^oraine came to his work more neatly 
dressed and looking in every respect more like a gentleman. 
He had a quiet dignified bearing and a determined look on his 
face. His feliow employees, after recovering from their surprise, 
looked at one another knowingly and began jeering at him. 

"Hi! there Mr. Dandy," said an ink boy, and Loraine sent 
him spralling into a waste file. They soon found that he was 
not to be trifled with. He performed every duty carefully and 
fatthfuUy with a non-assuming air, and within a week he was 
next in authority to the foreman in the press room. 

"How is Loraine getting on, did you say?" said Mr. Hr.zle- 
ton, addressing Rachel, "Well I must say that he is one man 
that I was fooled in. I don't understand him yet. He has'nt 
always been a common workman, I think. Not a word of his 
past can you get from him. There seems to be a mystery about 
him, Why, yesterday he dared in away to criticise some com- 
position one of the head reporters had made. He seems to be 
well read and versed in the ways of the world." 

"I hope that you will give him some encouragement and 
lead him out. I don't think that his life has been a very pleas- 
ant one," said Rachel as she left the office. 

A few evenings later Rachel attended a banquet given by 
the New Century Club, oa opening its splendid new building. 
While wandering through the rooms one of her friends stopped 
her and said: "Rachel, who is that handsome young gentle- 
man over there with a note book ia his hand?" 

"He seems to be a reporter" said Rachel. 

"David Ivordne," said Rachel to herself as she began to 
make her way toward him. In a flowing white evening gowa 
she was a dazzling beauty. 

"I am glad to meet you here Mr lyoraine," she said. 

lyoraine greeted her with such ease and grace that it was 
evident that this was no new sphere to him. 

"It s quite an unexpected pleasure to me. Miss Hazleton- 
You can imagine my surprise when I was detailed .o report this 
banquet. ' ' 

'•The Herald will be beaten this time sure. I shall read to- 


morrow's paper with interest," said Rachel. 

Loraine wandered around with a keen, observing eye, but 
never loosing sight of Rachel. When the banquet was over he 
hurried to his desk and began writing. The thought that she 
would read this bore him on through paragraph after paragraph, 
until at last if was finished and handed in to the night editor. 

"lyinwood, old boy, you are improving" — said the local 
news reporter to the social reporter — "You will make a hit on 
this club article sure." 

'•I did'nt write it," said Ivinwood. 

"You did'nt! well the old man must have been out himself 
last nighf. It's no novice that wrote that." 

"Good!" said Mr. Hazleton when he had read the report. 
"The Herald will not beat that. I do believe that there is 
something in the fellow after all; there is something back of 
lyoraine — no ordinary foot pad could make the strides he has 
made within the last few weeks." 

"Teli Mr. Ivoraine that I wish to see him in the office, 'j 
said Mr. Hazleton to the office boy, as he put some letters down 
on the desk. 

Loraine entered with a quick and more elastic step than 

"Mr. I/oraine I compliment you on that write-up. of yours 
last night, Here is a letter that I have just received from the 
president of the New Century Club. He is much pleased. It 
is a victory over the Herald. The new club is composed of some 
very prominent men and our paper will be benefitted. You 
have talent and I will give you an opportuntty to develope it. I 
hope that you will make journalism your profession. Hereafter 
you will be a member of the reporting staff; for the present you 
will be a kind of general reporter. In that way you will soon 
find your right place." 

Ivoraine's promotion created quite a sensation among the 
employees. They grew jealous and gave him all the trouble in 
their power. Sometimes he was almost at the point of giving 
up the fight, but a thought that Rachel was interested in his 
welfare would brace him up and he would take new courage. 


He threw aside his overalls, sending them into a garbage bag, 
and reported to the local editor. 

"You! advanced to a reporter! A mere printer's devil?" 
said the local edtior eyeing over his glasses. 

"Yes sir. I am here and mean to hold my own, and if I 
am not greatly mistaken some one else on The Chronicle staff 
was a printers devil — as you call it — once" 

"He fought his way up step by step if he was, he was'nt 
picked up out of an ink pot and set down at a desk among decent 

"That's where we differ. I got there first and am going to 
do the fighting afterwards. I have reported for orders." 

"Talks as if he really had some grit. He fseems to have a 
double personality, No ordinary beginner could climb as he is 
climbingf" thought the local editor after he had sent lyoraine 
out on the streets for local pick-ups. 

"We'll just let him drift for awhile and study him. I con- 
fess I don't understand him; he seems capable of holding his 
own any where. I think that he is going to prove a good man 
to have on the staff," said Mr, H^zleton to the local editor. 

Loraine handed in his local pick-ups and said as he pro- 
duced another manuscript; 

"Here is a little extra side work; I remembered your advice 
not to attempt to interview anyone, but a good opportunity pre- 
sented itself, and I took advantage oi it, as I thought that it 
would be a little hit for The Chronicle." 

The editor picked up the manuscript, glanced at it, dropped 
it, wheeled himself around in his chair, looked at IvOraine over 
his glasses in blank astonishment. 

"You! you mean to say that you, a mere novice, a printers 
devil! You attempted and did interview United States Senator 
Carlton? The man who has bafiled all other reporters, and 
boasts of the fact that he has never been interviewed?" 

"All I know is that he was a United States Senator enroute 
to Washington and 1 interviewed him on the coming fall cam- 

"Well! you'll do. How did you manage it?" 


"I just happened to strike him at the right time I suppose," 
said lyoraine. He did not relate the skillful little maneuvre he 
had used to accomplish his purpose. 

A fevv hours later Loraine mat Rachel as he was entering 
the Rosenberg Music hall to report a concert given by a local 
benevolent society. Richel was one of the directors and had 
several prominent places on the program. She had a very trou- 
bled look on her face and seemed worried. 

"Is there any thing that I can do for you Miss Hazleton? 
I surmise that there is something wrong," said Loraine. 

"I have just received a note from one of the principle male 
voices saying that he can't fill his engagement this evening. He 
does'nt say why. Our concert will be almost a failure without 
him, as he is one cf the quartette that was to be our chief attrac- 
tion. The curtain must go up in ten minutes." 

Taking a program from an usher I^oraine glanciag at ft saw 
that the quartette was near the last. 

"Show me the name of the missing man and give me his 
address- Now you go ahead with your concert, there will be a 
quartette." said I^oraine. 

"But you are to write up this for tomorrows paper." 

"Never mind that," said L,oraine, as he hurried off to catch 
a car. 

lyoraine called on the absent man to see if he could not 
induce him to fill his engagement; but on arriving he found the 
man suffering from a severe cold and that it was impossible for 
him to sing. 

"The quartette must sitjg — said IvOraine ^ith a determined 
voice and troubled look. Twill be a risk, bat I'll do it' ' he thought 

"Have you the music here," asked Ivoraine. 

" Yes," said the man. 

"Will you please let me see it," said Ivoraine. 

Going ovirr to a music stand he handed Loraine a sheet of 
music. Loraines face brightened as he looked at it. 

"I used to sing a little and have sung this. Would you 
mind me being your substitute?" 

"Not at all. I would be delighted if you would. I hate to 


see Miss Hazleton disappointed; if half of the women of this 
world were only half as good as she is it would be a far different 
world. If there is any good in anything she will get it out — 
and if " 

"The quartette will be called in hah an hour, can you 
play?" broke in Loraine going over to a piano. 

"Yes, a little," said the man. 

"Well, accompany while I run over this." 

He began to play and lyorainc began to sing. The man 
stopped and looked at Loraine. 

"Go on," said Loraine impatiently. 
When they had finished the man looked up at Loraine and said : 

"You'll do. " You had better get an evening dress. You 
can rent one third door north of the music hall; you will not 
have time to go to your room. 

"Thanks," said Loraine as he rushed from the room- 
Just three minutes and the quartette would be called. 

Rachel watched the stage entrance. Two minutes passed, 
then Loraine entered in full dress. 

"What does this mean?" said Rachel after she had recovered 
from her surprise. 

"No time for explanations. The curtain is going up," 
said Loraine, as he took his place to march out with the quar- 
tette. The other three looked anoyed. Rachel did not know 
what to think. They began to sing and as Loraines rich tenor 
echoed through the hall a hush came over the audience. Mr. 
Hazleton leaned from his box and a strange gentleman heavy 
built with black hair and mustache, left his seat in the rear of 
the hall and came near the front. When the quartette finished 
the building shook with applause. It was a great success. 

"Come around here and let me look at you; I don't know 
whether it is all a dream or this is a fairy play," said Rachel 
as Loraine came off the stage. 

"For myself I can't tell after looking at you. I know that 
I am tired," said Loraine as he dropped into a seat. 

"Now that you have taktn Mr. Stocklands place you will 
have to sing with me. He was to sing with me after this 


violin solo." 

"Really I can't. You must excuse me. I doa't know what 
you are to sing." 

"Do you understand music?" asked Rachel. 

"A little," said Loraine. 

"I dare say this is not the first time that you have sung 
before the public." 

"Weil, no. I used to be known as 'Singin' Bill' down 
on — " He stopped suddenly and looked confused. 

"Down where?" asked Rachel. 

"Please excuse me, Miss Hazleton; I wasn't thinking. It's 
nothing, anyway." 

"Well, here is the music. We must sing in five minutes." 

"It is not very difiicult, and if you say that I must, I sup- 
pose there is no alternative," said I,oraine, after glancing over 
the sheet. 

lyoraine forgot everything but that he was singing with 
Rachel. His whole soul went into the song. They seemed to 
sicg for each other alone. The audience was spellbound. 
Neither of them had ever sung as they did then. After they 
had finished there was a hush for a time, then a pandemonium. 
They were called for again, but neither wished to respond. 
Rachel left the stage with tears in her eyes. 

"How came I^oraine on the program this evening?" said 
Mr. Hazelton to Rachel in the carriage. 

"He sang for Mr. Stockland. He was theie as a reporter. 
He saw that there was something wrong and asked me, 
and I told him; then he left, and the next time I saw him, he was 
on the stage. He did us a great favor. You will please not say 
anything about it to him, papa." 

"Very well; I acknowledge that you understand him better 
than I do. I'll not be susprised at anything he may do next." 

"You said that my experiment — as you called it — would be 
a failure. Better mind how make you light of my judgment here- 
after," said Rachel, with a merry laugh, as they stopped at their 

Loraine went to the editorial rooms, sat down at a desk and 


tried to write, but his mind seemed to be in a wliirl. He could 
not collect his thoughts. He tore the paper and threw it into 
the waste-basket. He wrote a short, little sketch of the concert, 
then went to his room; but he was restless. 

"Why did I sing to-night — something I haven't done for 
several years? It was dangerous. Why was I so moved when 
I sang with her? Was it the music? Was it the song that 
moved us both? Why this change over me? Why have I lin- 
gered in this city so long, when I should be moving, yes, drift- 
ing, drifting? O, that I had never stepped here! Why not leave 
at once? Go as I came, no one knowing when or whither; but 
tomorrow is the day she generally comes to the oflSce — " He 
fell asleep. 

Mr. Hazelton had just entered the ofi&ce next morning, to 
relieve the night editor. When he picked up a morning issue 
of The Chronicle, he read in large head lines: 

"Senator Carlton interviewed for the first time by a Chron- 
icle reporter!" 

"Another victory over The Herald! I tell you, Thompson, 
The Chronicle is gaining fast. Who did this and how did he 
manage it?" 

"lyoraine did it, I am told," said the night editor. 

"Who! L/oraine, the first day that he came oil the press 
gang! What will come next? I say, Thompson, tell me what 
you think of lyoraine." 

"1 think that he came here a well-bred, cultured, and edu- 
cated gentleman in disguise." 

"Why did he choose the role of a bum and keep ic so 

"That's where the mystery comes in. But my opinion is, 
now, that you will do well to hold him on the staff." 

"I shall do so," said Mr. Hazelton, as the night editor left 
the office. 

lyoraine, entering the building, met Rachel coming out. 

"You are late, Mr. L,oraine. I have been waiting for you, 
but had given you out," said Rachel. 

"Yes, I overslept myself this morning. I beg your pardon. 


and promise to do better next time," 

"It was so stupid of me not to thank you, last night, for 
singing for us. I was taken so by surprise, I forgot everything." 

"DoE't speak of it, Miss Hazelton. 'Tis I that am indebted 
to you, I am glad that I vjas of some service to you." 

"You! indebted to me! I don't ucderstand." 

"Do you remember one morning, in the office, when I footed 
up some columns of figures?" 

"Yes; but what of that?" 

"I can't explain now. You remember you told me to 'make 
a fight for it?' " 

"Yes, and you have just trampled upon everything that 
came in your way, and last night captured the whole public. 
Really, you will have to sing again." 

"I'll never sing any more — not in public, anyway." 

"Papa has been searching the building for you, and is 
waiting for you in the office. He is delighted over that inter- 
view of yours." 

Mr. Hazelton congratulated Loraine on his success, and 
commended him for the progress that he was making. Ivoraine 
watched every opportuniiy, and v^^as fast proving himself the 
most efficient man on the staff, and a worthy gentleman. Mr. 
Hazelton being a lover of music, L,craine and Rachel often sang 
together in her home. He made strong friends, and proved 
himself a friend to many a homeless wanderer. He had refused 
an offer to be made I^ocal Editor on Tne Herald's staff. "What 
was the strange influence that held him to The Chronicle?" he 
had often asked himself. It was just one year from the time 
Jte was made reporter that Mr. Haztlton said to him: 

"I have been told that you have refused a prominent position 
on The Herald's staff. I am very glad that you chose to remain 
on The Chronicle. Our paper is growing, and, as editor-in- 
chief, I find my work growing heavy. There is now a great 
need for an assistant editor, and, as I think that you are the 
most efficient man on the staff, I offer you the position." 

Loraine accepted, and The Chronicle gained in influence. 
His strong editorials on live topics began to attract attention. 


A short time after his promotion a hearily-built man, with 
black hair and mustache, entered the oflSce one morning with 
two officers, and, going up to Loraine's desk, he said: 

"William Stanly, you are my prisoner." 

I^oraine turned suddenly and rose to his teet. 

"What do you mean! By what authority ?" 

"Come, now; no use to resist. We have every advantage,^' 
said the man, taking soaie papers from his pocket and motioning 
to the policemen, wao advanced with a pair of handcuffs. 

"They will not be necessary. I surrender and will go with 
you," said I/Oraine with a firm voice, in such a quiet, dignified 
manner that it surprised the man; but his experienced c cective 
eye saw that he need not fear his man. So he said to tae pDlice- 

"Put them away. You may go now; yoi will not be 

As the officers left toe building they met Mi. Hazelton, who 
looked at them in a manner that indicated surprise. When he 
entered the office and saw Loraine, looking very pale but firm, 
talking to a strauger, he suspected something wrong. He sat 
down at his desk. When the man saw him he stopped talking. 

"Go on," said lyoraine. 

"As I was going to say, I gave you up and was here work- 
ing out another clue, and happened to be at the concert the 
night 570U sang. I recognized you and had you shadowed, and 
returned to work up the case and get the rtquisitioa papers. I 
was delayed longer than I expected. I have been making some 
inquiries about you, and I will say that, had I done it before I 
reported that I had accidentally located you, I would not have 
done so. You are a changed man. 'Tis a shame to take you 
back now, but it can't be helped. He was a good-for-noihing 
bully; I didn't blame you much. But he came from a prominent 
family, you know, with plenty of money and — " 

Here Mr. Hazelton turned in his chair and said: 

"What does all this mean?" 

"I am under arrest, Mr. Hazelton," said I^oraine. 

"What's the matter, I^oraiue; what have you been doing 

1 8 the; mills APS COLLEGIAN 


"I'll make no statement now," said I^oraine. 

"I demand an explanation, sir," said Mr. Hazelton, address- 
ing the stranger, 

"His name is William Stanly, and he is wanted in Califor- 
nia for the killing of Harry Arlington five years ago." 

"So the mystery hovering over you has cleared away and 
you are a scoundrel and a murderer, and your sins have found 
you out, have they?" said Mr. Hazelton in a hard voice. 

"You are too hard. He is by no means a scoundrel and a 
common murderer," said the stranger, 

"Out with both of you! A pretty mess The Chronicle is in 
now," said Mr. Hazelton. 

"You are- " 

"That will do, Mr. Officer; I'll go with you now," and 
turning to Mr. Hazelton he said, "I'll send you a statement for 
publicatioa, but I think it best to say nothing at present." 

A little later lyoraine was locked up in the jail, after a great 
protest from the jailor. lyoraine told the jailor to admit no one. 
The news of his arrest spread over the city like wild-fire. After 
he had been there about an hour, the jailor came to his cell and 

"'Tis a foin lady, sir, and she be bound to see you." 

'•Who is it, Pai?" said lyoraine. 

"Faith, and I can't tell you, sir. She is ia a carriage and 
has a vail and — " 

"What kind of looking horse is she driving?" asked Mor- 

"Black, with white nose. She is set on seeing you." 

"Not in this hole." Loraine now knew that it was Rachel. 

"Begorrah! 'tis a nasty shame to have you here. 'Tis you 
that be a comin' here to cheer up the prisoners, and many a 
heart have you cheered here in this — " 

"Say, Pat, you need not fear to trust me. Bring her up in 
the corridor; I'll see her there." 

"Faith, 'tis not Patrick Oneal that mistrusts you. Follow 
me down to the sitting-room below; yon shall see her there." 


"Good for you, Pal!" said Loraine. 

A few minutes later, standing in the center of the room, 
with a face that told of deep emotion and pain, he faced Rachel. 

"Have you come here in this place to see me, one who now 
even the street waifs shun?'" 

"Mr. lyOraine, have I ever, at any time, proved myself a 
faithless friend?" 

"Never! but the most faithful of the faithful and the truest 
of the true," said lyoraine, as he began walking the floor. 

"Tell me all about it, won't you?" said Rschel, in a sym- 
pathetic voice. 

"I'll tell you all," he said, stopping before her. "My 
name is William Stanly. I aw twenty-five years old. I have 
neither father nor mother. Ivly uncle reared me and educated 
me at Harvard; then told me tu make my own fortune. I grad- 
uated ai twenty, with some credit to myself, The gold craze 
had just broken out in the West. I thought it a short way to 
fortune, and, against the wishes of my uncle, I went to Califor- 
nia. I secured a claim, and it was panning out well. A young, 
overbearing fellow adjoining me b^ganto encroach on my claim. 
I forced him back. He became my enemy. I grew rough and 
wild like the rest. One night, in a shanty that was called a 
hotel, we met in a game-room. We both had drunk a little 
deep. Some way, we had words. It seems all a dream to me, 
but next morning they said that I had shot him. He died at 
noon; it hurt me bad. No one cared. He was not popular; 
but he came from a prominent, wealthy family, and his brother 
swore that he would bring me to justice. I went to South 
America. A detective was put on my trail. I became a home- 
less wanderer — a man without a country. I did not remain in 
one place long. I became a wandering foot-pad, but I made my 
way as I went. I longed for my native land so that, at the end 
of four years, I landed in this city. I had chosen printing as a 
profession to make my living, as it ktpt me somewhat secluded, 
and I was seldom seen by the public. I did cot intend to 
remain here long, but — you cvill j lease excuse what I say now, 
Miss Hazelton — I met ycu. You gave me sympathy and encour- 


agement; you aroused the manhood that had lain dormant in 
my soul so long. A change came over me. I loved you; I 
couldn't help it. I didn't mean to tell you, for I am not worthy 
to speak to you; but I am going away now. No one will ever 
know, and you will please forgive me. I am a lover of music; I 
learned to sing. I was known in Lone Tree camp as 'Singin' 
Bill.' When I sang at the concert that night there happened to 
be a detective there that recognized me, and thus you see me 
now. I have nothing to regret. Your influence helped me up, 
and I'll never sink again. I am going. I shall not lose hope 
cor courage. I am going to stand my trial, after which I will 
make a statement for publication. I think it justice to your 
father, the public, and mystlf. I began to live as I thought you 
would like for me to live, when I found that you were interested 
in my welfare, and from this time on I shall conduct myself as 
becomes a gentleman. My s ory is ended." 

He turned toward ihe door; he could trust himself no 
further. Rachel had sat and listened as one dazed. She had 
said nothing; bat when I^oraine turned away she rose to her 
feet, and, extending hands, said: 


lyoraine turned. He saw tears in her eyes. Taking both 
of her hands in his, he said: 

"Rachel, do you care?" 

"Were you going to leave me like that, William? Did you 
not think that I, too, had a story to teli? Have you not seen? 
Have you forgotten the first night we sang together?" 

"Rach-Ll, do you mean ii? Do you love me as I am now?" 
said Ivoraine. 

"Love you! ah, more than life!! Listen, William: As you 
said, we are both youag; I am nineteen. I am yours. Come 
what may, I'll be true." 

"Oh, a woman's love!" groaned Loraine. "But your 
father, he will — " 

"I had it out with him before leaving the office. He was 
furious, but I can manage papa; never you fear." 

There was a rap on the door. 


"All right, Pat," said I^oraine. 

"Rachel, I leave in fifteen minutes. Remember, I am yours 
to the end, come what may," said I^oraine, as he pressed her 
close to his heart and left the room. 

One month later we see lyoraine, now known as William 
Stanly, in a California court-room facing the judge, who was 
saying: "William Scanly, you have had a fair trial for the kill- 
ing of Harry Arlington, aud the jury has found you guilty of 
manslaughter. Your case is a peculiar one. I have received 
many letters from prominent citizens of the city in which you 
last made your home. It seems that you have been an influen- 
tial, good man; but the law is no respeeter of persons. I fix 
your sentence at tea years in the State prison. I have given 
you the lightest sentence that the law of this State allows, which 
is due lo this," and he handed Stanly a pink envelope addressed 
by a hand that Stanly knew too well. 

Stanly wrote a straightforward statement and sent it to Mr. 
Haz;lton, who, after reading it, said: 

"I was too hard on him when he was taken from the office 
that morning. He is a good man and a true gentleman, but he 
is In the Clutches of the Law. We must try to have him par- 

Rachel was the same girl, honored and loved by all. There 
was just a little ache in her heart, but she smiled as she read the 
last words in a letter that bore the postmark of a California post- 
office. The words were, "Thirty-five and tweuty-nine is not old." 


Where e'er my bark shall ever chance to stray 
As o'er Life's sea it takes its wav'ring way, 
Howe'er God's plan ordains my ship shall sail — 
Tho' wand'ring thro' the dark my heart should fail, 
Tho' by the mist of doubts and fears my soul 
Should lose the sight of its eternal goal; 


If by the zephyr breezes of life's I'oy 

My boat should calmly through its waters ply, 

Or tossed upon the cold and billowy gale 

My being must take bearing, lessen sail, 

And stem the mighty tide until it quails 

Beneath the low'ring clouds of dark dismay 

And feels that fondest hopes are dashed away, 

Feels that with bearing lost aud compass gone 

It sails the wild and angry deep alone. 

No human sympathy and cheer to bless, 

No human confidence in which to rest — 

If then your love and confidence should bless 

My soul and let me feel its sacredness 

To follow me in kindness and in trust. 

That soul would mount the waves, outlive the gust 

That sought to sweep it hopeless to mistrust 

The darkness of my fears would turn to day, 

The bitterness of tears be washed away. 

The darksome clouds would lift, the sunlight cheer, 

If but my soul could know thy love was near, 

And I could feel it in the darkest hour 

Steering my bark by its enduring pow'r; 

Behold it at the helm with hand of might; 

Guiding my tired and troubled soul, aright. 

J. H. P., '04. 


jF Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., OCTOBER, 1902. No. I j^ 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College 

W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief 

Lamar Easterling, Associate Editor 

F. D. Melwn, Alumni Editor 

D. L. Bingham, Eocal Editor. 

JOS. H. Penix, Literary Editor. 

F. E. GuxTER, Business Manager 

W. C. Bowman, M. S. Pitxman, Assistants 

Eemittanees mid business business commufiications should be sent to F. E. 
Gunter, Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be sent 
to W. F. Cook, Fditor-in-Chief. 


Subscription t'er Annum $1.00. Two Copies, Per Annum $1.50 


The management of the Collegian passes from tried into 
untried hands. The editor has often thought what an advant- 
age it would be if it were possible for the position to be held by 
the same student for a number of years, so that the experience 
and knowledge gained could be used in making our magazine 
better. Never before has he realized how very great this ad- 
vantage really would be nor felt so forcibly its need. All the 
gratitude he has for having been trusted with the mouth-piece 
of his college, his ardent desire to have his magazine outstrip 
those of other colleges, his patriotism and love for his college 


itself, avails him naught when ability and aptness for the work 
in hand is required. In this time of need he Las those to whom 
he shall look for aid, his able staff, the students, the faculty, and 
our charitable friends. 

To the students will he especially look for aid. If there is 
any one thing connected with the college that is more dependent 
upon the students than the college itself it is the magazine. It 
exists solely for them, by them, and because of them. The CoL- 
i^EGiAN is the product of the combined intellect of Millsaps Col- 
lege. On its pages are records mide by each and every member 
of the student body though some records may consist of unmo- 
lested space. Tbere is no way to escape it. '"Published 
Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College." If you are a 
student of Millsaps College, then you are responsible for each 
issue of the Collegian. You cannot speak disparagingly of it 
without acknowledging your own failure. I^et every student bear 
this in mind, and lead his best efforts to make the Coelegian a 
credit to himseif and to his College, "^which expects of him the 
very best he is capable of doing. 

To our friends who have been so lenient in their criticisms 
of our young magazine in tiie past four years of its life, we shall 
still look for indulgence. To the business men of Jackson 
whose support in a financial way has made possible the exis- 
tance of the Coeeegian, we wish to express our heart-felt grati- 
tude. It is you who have done most for us in the past and you 
who will determine the ultimate destiny of our and your College 
Magazine. We know that you may not realize in actual cash 
a satisfactory return, but you prepare a harvest which is iar 
more lasting than gold and upon which your children for gener- 
ations to come will draw interest. 

The editor has no spacial plan he intends to adopt. To- 
gether we shall strive to make the Coeeegian continue to grow 
stronger and better as it has during the four years of itsexistance. 

The growth of Millsaps College in influence and material 
improvements during the last two years has been nothing short 


of phenomenal. Though from the very beginning her growth in 
reputation abroad and in her accommodations at home has been 
wonderfully steady and rapid, never before has she made such 
marked progress as during the last and closing year of the first 
decade of her useful life. The first session of the new decade 
finds her without a peer in oratory in the South. Rach contest 
with her sister colleges has been but a record of her victories. 
Countess made the last entry at Columbus. Her influence is 
felt throughout the South. During the last two years she has 
more students than ever before. This session opens enrolled 
with a handsome increase. 

As to her material growth. At a cash outlay of $40,000.00 
she has come into possession of eleven acres of land adjoining the 
Campus together with three large buildings. One is an impos- 
ing three story brick building and will accommodate over one 
hundred and t\^enty-five boys. A portion of it will be used as a 
dormatory. The building is fitted out with a steam heating 
plant and all the modern conveniences which go to make com- 
fort. It will be known as "Founders Hall" in honor of Major 
Millsaps through whose generosity the building was secured. 
All the advantages of Founders Halt including table boatd and 
furnished rooms will be given students for nine dollars per 
month, thus showing the aim of our Christian institution — to 
place within reach of every worthy yowag man the priceless boon of 
a collegiate education. 

We have not the enormous endowments of some other sim- 
ilar institutions (though our endowment is comparatively large) , 
but we have what is far more valuable — the continuoas outpour- 
ing of consecrated gifts, and the prayerful solicitude of a devoted 
Christian people. The gorgeous fixtures are absent, but com- 
fort and hallowed influences are their shining substitutes. 

Rev. A. H. Shannon, who for several years had charge of 
Wesley Hall at Vanderbilt University, will have charge of 
Founders' Hall, and, with his experienced management, success 
is assured from the beginning. 

Every summer the editor is frequently asked concerning the 


"Rules and Regulations" of the College, and, sad to say, the 
impression he has gotten from these combined inquiries is that 
a number of people look upon our College as being one ladened 
with severe and rigid rules, with what our honored President 
has so fittingly termed the "choke-throat" policy in schools, and 
I use the teim schools advisedly. We reply with all the emphasis 
of outraged college dignity and honor, we have no set of 
rules save those by which every true gentleman instinctively 
lives. We have an honor policy, because we propose to deal 
with honor and not dishonor. We believe that the type of char- 
acter developed tinder the responsibility of freedom is of far more 
vahie than the hot-house specimen grow?i beiieath the eye of 

If you have a son whom you can trust, there is no place more 
suited for his mental and moral development than is Millsaps 
College, There is no faculty nor student body which will wel- 
come him more heartily or aid him more cheerfully than we will. 
But if you cannot trust him — if he is not a boy of honor and 
integrity — we do not want him, for we have no night watchmen 
to disturb the sacred stillness of our honor-guarded nights. 
For such a patient we have only to suggest the lasting embrace 
of the kindly plow-handles by day, and the eternal vigilance of 
their faithful watchman, physical exhaustion, by night. 

No, we wil! not encumber a college for worthy, ambitious 
young men with the appurtenances necessary for the successful 
manipulation of a hoosier school for an aimless, empty-headed 
set of humanity. It is true that we have just bought out an 
institution where good cooks and field hands were spoiled, but 
not for the purpose of perpetuating the pernicious practices. 

But we do not intend to convey the idea that we have no 
discipline. There are certain things concerning which an expe- 
rienced faculty does not give us the right to an opinion, just as 
the church member may be thought of as having no right to an 
opinion when his decision conflicts with the church ritual, 
because there must be a supreme authority in every organi- 

What we wish made plain is that we expect a student to do 


right, not because a rule says lie must, but because it is right, 
and his conscience, the supreme authority in all moral issues, 
declares that it is right. 

This policy obtains with us because we believe this is the 
only means to set the inward man at work, and 

" When the fight begins within himself, 
A man's worth something." 

Dr. Muckenfuss, who has held the chair of Chemistry and 
Physics since the foundation of the College, has gone from us to 
accept the same chair in the University of Arkansas. We grieve 
to lose this splendid Christian man and scholar, who has labored 
so diligently and successfully with us. While here he was not 
only a good man and able professor, but the sympathetic coun- 
selor of all the boys. His sincerity and devotion to duty won 
for him the respect and admiration of all with whom he came 
in contact. In his stead we have Dr. Sullivan, formerly of Cen- 
tenary College, and feel assured that he will make up the great 
loss we have sustained. 

Professor Bishop has kindly guaranteed a prize of ten dol- 
lars to be given to the contributors of the CoivLEGiAN. It has 
not been decided whether the prize will be given for the best 
story or for a contribution of some other nature. This will be 
annouced in the next issue of the Collegian. We are sure 
that the students will make Professor Bighop feel how very 
grateful the entire student body is for such encouragement by 
the enormous quantity and excellent quality of their contribu- 

The business men of Jackson who advertise with us make 
the existence of the Collegian possible. The staff asks that 
every student patronize them. In doing this you not only show 
your appreciation of their kindness, but you aid very materially 
in the support of your magazine. 



JOS. H. PENIX, Editor. 

The literary editor begins his work with a special sense of 
unworthiness, due partly to his own limitations, and partly to 
the peculiar demands of his department. He is expected to 
have some literary ideal, or, at least, some sort of literary stan- 
dard. Yet, so extensive and so varied have literary activities 
become in the last few years, so radically have authors departed 
from the old stereotyped forms, so versatile is the vast body of 
our literati, and so inexperienced and incompetent a novice is 
the ordinary undergraduate, that the editor feels this sense of 
deficiency to be fully warranted. 

So, in venturing upon reviews or criticisms, or whatever 
shall be expected of him, he does so with reluctance, feeling 
that he would much rather subject his ov^n poor efforts to crit- 
icism (if, indeed, they were worthy of criticism), than to 
attempt a review or discussion of productions so far beyond him. 

Yet, he believes that for every earnest failure there is in 
some way and measure a recompense; and he has at least the 
consolation that what he says shall not dij^quiet the literary 
world, a relief in knowing that his multitude of errors shall be 
covered by his obscurity. 

In reading Thomas Hardy's Tess of the D Urbervillts, one 
can hardly fail of being reminded of Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter, 
since both are tales of the sad tragedy of unlawful passions and 
their succeeding woes. This central theme is, however, the 
only point of likeness between the two stories. 

We would not, of course, attempt to compare the manners 
of the two 'authors, the wide differences of which are due partly 
to their individual style?, but largely to their different concep- 
tions of fiction and its purposes. Yet, in whatever respects 
Hardy fails of the perfection of Hawthorne's style, he is cer- 
tainly lucid, and, in the aspect from which he views nature, 

the; mili^saps coi,i.egian 29 

natural. His characters stand before us as flesh and blood, and 
are always, in the literary sense, true to themselves, keeping 
throughout the book the intense human cast which he has given 
them, so that none can say of them, "They could not have 

Indeed, just here arises occasion for the intrinsic difference 
of the two novels. As has been intimated, the objects of the 
writers were altogether different. Hawthorne's tale is psychical. 
He takes a supposed case, and follows its incidents and its 
effects on the lives of those connected with it, for the sake of the 
psychic problem involved. Of course there is implied a deep 
and sympathetic concern toward his characters, and through 
their psychic states we become very well acquainted with them, 
even though thej be somewhat fastastlc; but the impulse that 
prompted him to write, and the interest that makes us read, 
springs from the eternal questions of mind and conscience. 

Haidy, on the other hand, is not so much concerned with 
such problems. True, he considers the mental and moral atti- 
tudes of his characters, but only as these explain various inci- 
dents, or, are explained by them; and, apart from these require- 
ments, such attitudes have no fascination for him. He is 
intensely realistic. He assumes to represent this phase of life 
with all the ghastliness of its moral tragedy; and he attains his 
purpose. His motto is: "A novel is an impreshion, not an argu- 
ment," and he certainly adheres to that idea throughout Tess of 
the D' Urbervilles. 

Of the author's powers, as shown in this novel, there is no 
dispute. As to the ultimate place of the work in literature, 
there are, no doubt, differences of opinion; but surely, if we are 
at all to consider the morale of a story, or rather if the finer 
senses are to b$ regarded in estimating a novel, this one can 
never meet with the same degree of approval as The Scarlet 
Letter, which it suggests. In the last named work, both parties 
to the crime are equally guilty; in the former, is recorded the 
more repulsive deed of a practised villain, wrought upon a help- 
less victim. Here a question arises: Does the conduct of his 
heroine just subsequent to this deed justify the epithet "pure," 


which he gives her on the title page? There seems to be here a 
moral incongruity. Yet again, in representing Tess' husband 
as casting her off for the very crime of which he himself was 
guilty, the writer represents him as adhering to that crude moral 
standard, not based on moral law; that there exists a separate 
and higher standard for woman than for man. Hawthorne's 
heroine expiates her crime, and, seemingly, appeases her con- 
science by a lifelong penitence and service to her fellow-creatures. 
Hardy's holds out bravely for a-while. but at the very crisis, 
when her constancy is about to be rewarded, virtue is lost and 
the wrecked life ends in crime and execution, 

Ivife must have its tragedies, and tragedies must end in 
tragedy, but alas, that the rude pen of man should let virtue and 
purity end like this! 




The new exchange editor sends greetings to his friends, 
fellow-students and contemporaries in the college world, together 
with his best wishes for a highly successful year to all engaged 
in the various departments of college work. 

It is with a feeling of pleasure and also of responsibility 
that I enter upon my newly assigned duties. I am sadly con- 
scious of my incompetency to take up the work laid down by 
my worthy predecessor; nevertheless, I shall try to the best of 
my ability to make the department interesting. 

I anticipate much pleasure ia reading over the various 
magazines of merit that will grace our desk this session; yet I 
fear I shall make but a dull reviewer and a poor critic, so far as 
literary merit is concerned. However, what criticisms are 
made shall be open and fair, and rather pleasant suggestions 
and encouraging comments than anything of a technical or dis- 
agreeable nature. 

We are pleased to welcome to our desk the "Olive and 
Blue," of Tulane Uaiver-iity. It is a neatly-gotten-up weekly, 
full of interesting news, and very enthusiastic concerning foot 
ball. The article, "Social Order and Educational Agencies," 
written for it by Justice A. Breux, is very interesting and instruc- 

The "Purple and Green" comes to our desk with a breath 
of out-of-door air about it, suggestive of all kinds of field sports. 
It is full of the glory of its institution, and stands up for it with 
a back-bone worthy of credit. 

We acknowledge the receipt of the "Crimson and Gold." 
It is a neatly-edited magazine, and does credit to its institution. 
We gladly exchange. 


Harvard has shortened its collegiate course to three years. 
This will be of great advantage to its future students who are in 
a hurry to finish so as to study for the various professions. Con- 
sidering the amount of preparatory work that has to be done to 
gain admission to that institution, three years are enough. 

As a matter of fact, the University of Chicago has been 
doing practically the same thing by allowing students, who are 
sufficiently advanced, to take the four years' regular course in 

Vanderbilt opened with a greater — at least ten per cent 
greater — attendance this year than ever before. This is the case 
with most of the colleges throughout the country. Education 
is on the boom! This is a great sign of our nation s progress 
and development. If education is not quite so exact as it 
used to be, it is, at least, more abundantly distributed through- 
out the masses — wherein lies the true strength of a republic. 

The Cecil Rhodes fund, providing for scholarships to Oxford, 
England, has been creating a great deal of interest among the 
young men of this country. It will mean a great deal to the 
deserving students, provided the proper care and fairness be 
used in selecting the representatives from the various States. 
Each State should, by all means, have its representatives 
selected fairly, — according to tests of ability and scholarship, 
rather than by "politicsl faction," — the chief object being to 
select men who will reflect the most credit and honor upon their 
States and institutions, and upoa the United States ai a whole. 




Vacation is over and it is *'up to us" again. 

Read the ads this month. They will save you money. 
Boys trade with our advertisers. 

R. R. Norquistof Carrollton, was out Monday night having 
a social chat with triends. 

Harvy Monger, '98, visited friends in Jackson last Saturday 

Rev. R. A. Clark, '01, made a flying trip to Millsaps last 

T. Wynn Holloman, '99, visited club mates on the Campus 
last week. 

Marvin Galloway '02 visited friends on the Campus on 
Founders day. 

"Young son to father: What is the difference between a 
bell and a corrupt politician? 

Father: Give it up. 

Young son: One peals from the steeple, the other steals 
from the people. ' ' 

Rev. J. A. Bowen, of Tupelo, spent several days mth his 
son Cawthon during the opening week. 

Dr. A. M. Muckenfuss, who held the chair of Physics and 
Chemistry, has resigned and accepted a position at the Univer- 
sity of Arkansas. His place is filled by Dr. Sullivan. 

The question has been asked lately if the lyimar I^iterary 
Society and J. N. Hall have effected a reconciliation. Can any- 
one enlighten us? 

F. S. Gray, Jr. was on the Campus last week. He will not 
return to school here this year, but goes to New Orleans to enter 
Soule's business college. 


The Y. M. C. A. reception Friday night September 26, was 
quite a success and all the boys report a good time. At the first 
regular business meeting thirty-one new names were added to 
the roll. While this is a good showing, still there is room for 
many more" Boys, you can take no better step than to connect 
yourself with this organization. 

Rev. R. M. Standifer of Clarksdale, came down to the 
opening and brought "L/ittle Rufe with him. Boys be good to 

L. W. Felder of 1901, passed through Saturday enroute to 
Glen Allen. He has just recovered from a two months spell of 
sickness. He looked real sporty with his diamond ring and 
full beard. 

Mr. Chas. R. Garraway of Hattiesburg, was on the Campus 
a few day last week visiting his cousin W. Felder Cook. 

Dr. Swearinger to new student: "What is your name? 

Floyd, sir! 

What are youc iniatials? 


A. L,. Hopkins who attended MiUsaps during the session 
of 'oo'-oi passed through Jackson a few days ago enroute to the 
University of Chicago. It is rumored that he is huatiag anoth- 
er Freshman medal. 

The Tennis Association held it^ first meeting last week and 
the following ofl&cers were elected: D. L. Bingham, President, 
W. C. Bowman, Manager and Treasurer, Siias Davis, R. Ed. 
Turner and M. Green Court Managers. An order for new nets, 
balls, etc, was put in and play will be resumed in a few days. 

Rev. Herbert Watkins, '99, couducted the opening exer- 
cises for us one day last week. 

The business manager was on the sick list the first week or 
school, but we are glad to report him out and looking well now. 

Mrs. Blanche Howell librarian last year, did] not return. 
But we attribute that to "My John's" graduation and not to the 
fact that she has enough of Millsaps. 


The Galloway I^iterary Society held its first regular meeting 
Friday night and the following officers for the ensuing year 
were elected: F. E. Gunter, President, W. N. Duncan, Vice- 
President, W. D. Hughes, Treasurer, S. R. Flowers, Cor. Sec- 
retary, J. S. Purceil, Recording Secretary, H. B. Heidelberg, 
Assisting Secretary and T. V. Simmons monthly orator. 

"Look at Miss Garwell as she sits on the sand in her bath- 
ing suit," exclaimed a Pittsburger at Atlantic City. "She is 
pretty enough to eatt" "That's what she is," asserted his 
hearer. She is a regular sand-witch. 

Robt. Lampton came up to the opening, but did not enter 
school He will attend a school in New Orleans, preparatory 
for Tulane University where he intends taking his degree. 

The Athletic Association had a very enthusiastic meeting 
last Friday evening and a number of good speeches were listened 
to and many new names were added to the roll. The result of 
election was as follows: D. L. Bingham, President, A. M. Elli- 
son, Vice-President, H. V. Watkins, Secretary, W. D. Hughes, 
Treasurer, V. Y. Felder, Capf Foot Ball Team, G. R. Nobles, 
Manager Foot Ball Team, W. M. Meirict, Capt, Base Ball Team 
Shaw Enochs Manager Base Bali Team, W. C. Bowman, Capt, 
Track Team, F. E. Gunter, Manager Track Team and A. M. 
Ellison Director of the Gymnasium. Now boys let us get to 
work and do something and have an Athletic Association in 
reality as well as in name. 

The election in the Eamar Literary Society this year came 
off very quietly, The following gentlemen received the places of 
honor: A. S. Cameron, President, W. C. Bowman, Vice-Presi- 
dent, A. H. V/hitfield, Secretary, H. V. Watkins, Treasurer, 
J. N. Hall, Censor, D. C. Enochs, Cor. Secretary and Buchan- 
an Critic. 

T. J. Millsaps has a position on Saturdays with Feibalman 
Bros. Now don't everybody rush down at once to make pur- 
chases for it might confuse him. 

"Hump" Campbell, formerly ot Jackson, now Asst. Cashier 
of the Bank of Sumner, was out mingling with club mates last 

After this issue our advertising pages will be interspersed 
with a series of interesting locals and jjkes. 





ifiTHER & Um {'AWE I 

Our Cakes, Ice Cream, Soda Water & Can- 
dies are always fresh and the Best 
in the City. 



Best Brands Cigars and Tobacco. 

Martz Famous Stick Candv. 



Call and be convinced we are the 


Z Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., NOVE.MBER, 1902. No. 2 ^ 


In the interim between one of the hardest fought battles 
ever waged in Congress and one yet to be waged, doubtless with 
greater intensity, the American people have witnessed the most 
persistent effort ever made by an administration in behalf of any 
measure. For the authorization of a reciprocity treaty with 
Cuba, the President and cabinet officers have toured almost the 
entire nation, bringing to bear on the public mind all the power 
and influence of our country's most exalted positions. By argu- 
ment, persuasion, ridicule, force, the attempt has been made to 
lash into submission the refractory senators and representatives 
of the administration party. There is doubt whether any body 
of men were ever subjected to greater pressure and subsequent 
denunciation, than these representatives of the sugar industry in 
the United States; and for no other cause, than an unyielding 
contention for their constituents' interests. To determine the 
rightfulness of either party in the premise these questions should 
first be considered, viz: (i) Do the Piatt amendment and 
the promises made bind the government to make a reciprocity 
treaty? (2) Will the concesssion if made materially aid the 
Cubans? (3) Has our government the right to make such con- 

It is evident that Mr. Roosevelt regards the government 
obligated to grant reciprocity. The claim is set up that McKin- 
ley had promised this much 10 the Cubans and that the present 
course is but a continuation of our dead president's policy. The 
seeming implication is that in loyalty to a dying request, no 


objection should be raised to our lamented executive's promise. 
But however strong such an appeal may be made the people, 
nevertheless, at times, refuse thus to be bound, and that too, 
without a sense of disloyalty, even though they disregard the 
president's wishes. To them it appears as logical, when their 
interests demand it, that the president should, arbitrarily, put 
an end to strikes as that they should implicitly yield to whatever 
promise he might make. Doubtless, a marked hesitancy should 
precede the repudiation of a president's course, but if, ever, 
men have the right to dissent, it is when acquiesence results in 
their own hurt. 

The effort to stamp on the public conscience, a sense of 
moral obligation is a master stroke of diplomacy, for the Ameri- 
can people are peculiarly responsive to such appeals. It was a 
moral obligation that led to the war with Spain. But that the 
Piatt amendment imposes the duty of making special concessions 
to Cuba, may well be regarded as a debated question. This 
amendment provides that Cuba, unless with the permission of 
the United States, shall make no treaties with foreign countries. 
The supervision of Cuban foreign relations, rightfully, belongs 
to our government. The United States stand out before the 
world as the guarantors of Cuban liberty, and the whole strength 
of the nation is ready to preserve it, should occasion arise. 
Our army and navy are Cuba's sentinels, dispensing with the 
necessity of self-imposed precautions against dangers. Should 
Cuba become involved in foreign entanglements, the United 
States would, necessarily, be held responsible for Cuba's con- 
duct. Do not the risks assumed by the United States and their 
position of protectorate justify the concession made in the Piatt 
amendment? Is not Cuba morally bound to concede this much? 
Not only has American generosity endowed her with liberty, 
but its continuance assures, to the Cubans, free and untrammeled 
perpetuity of government. The assumption that this protec- 
torate, because of the general recognition of the Monroe doc- 
trine, costs the United States nothing, is wrongfully made, and 
its barrenness becomes evident, as we see, yearly, the increasing 
demand for naval appropriations. It strikes us as a strange 


expression of gratitude, that Cuba thus hedged in from dangers, 
freed alike from royalty to the protecting power and from the 
expense of self- provided measures of safety — I repeat, it seems 
strange that, in addition to all this, the request is further made 
that the American people put no bar to the free entrance of 
Cuban sugar into the American markets. The moral obligation 
resolved becomes thus, because thou hast been generous, coritimu 
thy gifts. 

The query as to whether the reciprocity if granted would 
materially aid the Cubans leads to the consideration of the second 
proposition. We are familiar with the tale of Cuba's woes, and 
of the impending commercial ruin, if reciprocity be denied. 
We were told of the great quantities of sugar lying on the 
wharves, without an effort to ship it, because its lo;v price would 
not justify its being placed on the market; of mills that were 
inactive or dismantled; and of a population restless and difl&cult 
of restraint. Other reports give a more hopeful account, that 
the island is growing prosperous, and the people contented. 
The true state of affairs is, probably, the mean between these 
two extremes. It is not supposable that the financial condition 
of a country emerging from a war such as has devastated Cuba 
can be wholly satisfactory, especially when the task of setting 
up a new government, radically different from the old, is not yet 
complete; but while this is true, to assert that the whole of 
Cuba's distress is attributable to an inhospitable tariff is to 
ignore completely the effect of internal disquietude over trade 

No one could deny that the United States should be the 
greatest buyer of Cuban sugar, and that they will be, under 
settled conditions, is inevitable. The production of sugar in the 
United States is about one-tenth the consumption, and because 
the restrictions operating against Cuba operate against every other 
sugar-producing country, her nearness to our shores and acces- 
sibility to our markets e%ctually shut out all outside competi- 
tion. Evidently the tariff does not affect the demand; does it 
affect the price? 

There is no more fundamental economic law than that the 


commercial value of an article, under natural conditions, is 
determined by the relative supply and demand. A tariff has 
absolutely no part in determining the prices, as regards the 
seller of imported goods. It only adds the amount levied to 
the price as determined by the supply and demand, and regulates 
the price at which the buyer and consumer purchase. If the 
tariff were removed, the importer's price would remain the 
same; the consumer's price would decrease by an amount equal 
to the tariff. The Cuban planter need not hope that a removal of 
the tariff means an increased price for his sugar. This might 
happen if Cuban sugar came into competition with home-grown 
sugar, but where home production is so small a part of the home 
consumption, its commercial value does not fix but is determined 
by the imported sugar. Here it is that the contention of the 
reciprocity advocates is most fallacious. They endeavor to 
make the American people believe that reciprocity means 
cheaper sugar to them, and a better price to the Cubans. By 
what process of reasoning do we reach the inference, that a 
reduction in price to consumer means an increase in price to the 
seller? The argument that a removal of the tariff increases the 
selling price destroys the primary aim of a tariff, which is, by 
adding a certain tax to the original cost, to increase the price of 
home-grown products by the amount added. There never was 
but one purpose in granting reciprocity, and that is, by remov- 
ing this tax, to allow our own people to buy imported goods at 
the cost naturally created by the supply and demand. It was 
never intended to aid foreigners at our expense, but ourselves, 
at foreigners' expense. In the light of past history, the argu- 
ment does not bold. Prior to the Spanish war, when Cuba was 
much more hampered than by the Piatt amendment, the com- 
mercial restrictions, operating now, operated then, unaccom- 
panied by the long, direful portrayal of tariff oppression. The 
query suggests itself as to whether there is not some unrevealed 
motive in this play on the American conscience, whereby it is 
hoped to remove the tariff under the delusion of moral obliga- 
tion and protecting, filial duty. 

The plausible sophistry, being practiced, however, tends to 


make us forget that in granting reciprocity, we may do injury to 
ourselves. So great is the obligation to help Cuba made appear, 
that to consider our own interest seems sacrilege. There appears 
to be a trace of great merit in the implication, that if Cuba 
needs aid, we should not hesitate to sacrifice American interests 
to give it. But, however that may be, the object of such argu- 
ment is primarily to turn the voters' attention from matters of 
home concern. 

If there is need for a tariff — the strongest ten^t of Republi- 
can faith — it is when American interests suffer from free trade 
and foreign competition. Consistency demands that the tariff 
be reduced on American goods seeking foreign markets. It is 
foolish, in addition to the imposition of a monstrous burden, to 
protect goods at home, that ^abroad, compete with the world. 
Suggest that the tariff be removed from dry goods, tin, steel, etc. 
and the opposing clamor would be deafening. Yet the American 
production of these articles is so great that the markets of the 
world have been invaded and they compete with the French in 
France, with the German in Germany and with the English in 
England. With sugar however, the case is very different. Ten 
times the amount produced is consumed. The fertile soil, cheap 
labor and tropical climate of Cuba make practically certain the 
destruction of the American sugar industry, if Cuban sugar ever 
comes into direct competition with the American. It is thus 
proposed to remove from our weakest industry, by gradual steps 
it may be, but with the same certainty as if all were removed at 
once, the only protection making its extistance possible. 

Does congress owe a moral duty to make conces'^ions to 
Cuba, which, when made, are worthless as regards their pur- 
ported mission, but which are destructive to a now, prosperous 
home industry? If congress owes one duty more than another, 
that duty is to protect that which is American, and not to hazard 
our own interests to false notions of duty or the pretended sin- 
cerity of politicians guided by unseen powers. 

In the midst of commercial present-day surroundings and 
their attendant light, it is not difficult to find the true source of 
the fight for reciprocity. America is so dominated by trusts, 


their workings are so intricate, their power to engineer schemes 
so nearly irresistable, that to effect a desired plan, they can buy 
up courts, control congress, and under the guise of moral obliga- 
tion to others, influence for their own good the great weight 
of public o'^inion. A simple statement will better sufiSce. The 
American sugar refinery controlls the manufacture of refined 
sugar acd consequently dictates its prices. There is not now, 
nor would there be under reciprocal conditions any competitor of 
the sugar trust for Cuban sugar. Is there any one so far lost 
in speculations, who imagines that a moral obligation would 
cause this corporation gratuitously to pay more than the least 
possible price, because buying Cuban sugar? Such spirit of 
generosity is rarely found in American trusts. 

No, the result desired is that American sugar be reduced 
by the same percent that reciprocity allowed for Cuban sugar, 
and by buying both American and Cuban sugar at a lower than 
the present price, the millions that we would be made to think 
go to the sustenance of needy Cubans, to rebuilding the beau- 
tiful island's devastated homes, and to the reinstitutlon of pros- 
perity and peace, will, in truth, swell the multi millions of 
the power propagating patriotic reciprocity, and cultivating 
and refining the American sense of moral duty. 

B. E. Eaton. 


"When de Gent is out a'playin' golf. 

To hit der ball he tries; 
But ev'ry drive he breaks a stick, 

And dis is what he cries: 

* * * ? * III ? ! • • 

She tried her bes' to hit dat sphere, 

But ev'ry time she swung. 
She missed the thing and hit her toe; 

Well, here's de song she sung: 

? * * * MM ? . 


Does wimmen ever say such things ? 

Humph! bet cher life they do. 
Just take me job a little while, 

You'll learn a thing or two ! 

!!! ? 

C. A. A.- 


"What's that; tired of dancing and want a story? Tut, 
tut! What more do you want than a dance to such music as old 
Asa is giving you? When I was a youngster we wouldn't quit 
such a dance for anything short of an Indian fight. And here 
you come, Jenny, wanting me to stop the fun with one of my old 
tales! Egads, these boys would kidnap me." 

This was the protest of Captain Dan when his niece threw 
her arms around his neck and said she must have a story. No 
one knew better than Jenny how to get anything she might 
want from Captain Dan. With him she was simply irresistible; 
with the boys she was — well, just a very gentle, much-beloved, 

She kissed the old wrinkled cheek and cried: 

"Now, there are two kisses. Aren't they worth a little, 
short story?" 

"If you had been a princess you would have broken all the 
royal hearts in Euiope, and then married some poor devil because 
you loved him. You boys had best mind your own; you see 
what she can do for an old man like me!" 

"Fetch me a glass of punch and I'll tell you a tale." 
Aside to the boys: "They are worth a dozen." 

A silver goblet filled to the brim was brought him. He held 
it for a moment in his hand. The smile had gone from his 

"Just such as she used to make — the best in the world; fit 
to drink a toast to any queen, none the less to you, my queens! 
This night makes me think of another when I was young, 


in this very house, in this very room, and, Jenny, your grand- 
father was telling stories to us youngsters, and when he had fin- 
ished one about some knights and ladies and castles she and I 
slipped away and hid behind the holly bush out yonder — it was 
a bush then, with thick limbs and leaves down to the ground; 
it's grown a tree now — and I swore to be her knight, and she, 
the little, timid dove, was to be my lady. But you want a 

"Why did you never marry her, Uncle Dan?" questioned 
the curious Jenny at this story she had never heard before. 

His eyes sought the blazing fire, and rested there; his 
hand nervously pulled at his little, white goatee. 

"Did I never tell you?" he said, at length. "She was too 
beautiful to live. They took her away from me and carried 
her to Italy — never brought her back." 

"But ^ou want a story — well let me see — I have it! This 
cup, this silver cup, reminds me of the one I shall tell you, one 
of knights and ladies and castles, too, but a ghost withal. You 
don't believe in ghosts? Then you never met one face to face 
in a teal lonesome place? Egads! if you had you would swear 
by them." 

"In the south of Old England stood a great castle, called in 
its day Clayton Hall, but in after years it lost that name and 
came to be known as the Haunted Tower. Long ago all the 
wood-woik rotted and fell away, leaving bare the huge walls of 
masonry, perfect, built of immense stones, cut and piled with 
such precision as to seem almost unbroken. 

"The plan of the caslle was square. From the four corners 
of the wall four towers rose to a height of some hundred feet, 
from whose top-most windows oce might see far down the four 
roads leading up to the castle gates. One of these gates was 
situated under each of the towers. In each tower three ancient 
cannon, arranged turret upon turret in a quadri-circle, guarded 
the approach to the gates. 

"In the days of its splendor, Clayton Hall had been one of 
the King's strongholds; but its glory had all faded away. An 
awful crime had been committed within its walls, after which 


misfortune befell all its inmates, and a doom seemed to hang 
over the place. 

"It happened this way: You know, the law in England 
was that the oldest son should inherit all the estate of his 
father, leaving the younger brothers, if any there might be, with 
nothing. The Lord of Clayton Hall had two sons, and, as the 
younger came to know that his father, because of his old age, 
soon should die, Cain-like, he became jealous of his elder 
brother and laid in his heart a secret plan how he should kill 
him. At a time when he knew darkness would hide his sin, 
he stole to his brother's bed and stabbed him in the heart. The 
devils in hell would have paled at such a crime. He flung the 
dagger far out the window, and there it was found on the fol- 
lowing day, and the crime laid at some stranger's door. The 
murderer sped back to his own bed chamber, and no one ever 
suspected him. 

"The old father soon followed his son, for grief, and Clay- 
ton Hall, once the seat of a proud and honorable house, was in 
the hands of a villain and a fratricide. The old halls, once 
merry with the laughter of a proud and happy throng, now cov- 
ered dark crimes and debauchery. Never again was there to be 
another such gathering. Never again should the herald sound 
the bugle calling knights to the tilt-yard and ladies to the scene, 
for a curse was upon the castle and its inmates. Nothing was 
left to tell of its pristine splendor save here and ttiere a few 
pieces of rusted armor or a broken lance. Some had seen a full 
suit of armor, burnished bright, as if a great knight had lately 
pulled it off. Others said the dead brother nightly came back to 
claim his property. It was not an uncommon thing for belated 
travelers on one of the castle roads to see a knight in full armor 
riding as if for adventure. And, Jenny, I remember, when 
your grandfather told us of this she w^is sitting by me and I was 
holding her little hand, and she caught me closer and nestled 
nearer, the tim'rous little dove. The knight would ride up and 
down the road muttering strange prayers to himself, no one ever 
knew what, save now and then he was heard to say: 'If I lose 
myself I save myself. ' Once he was seen to stop by the road- 


side and stoop to wash his hands in a pool of water while he 
mumbled, 'Blood, blood, blood!' He vaulted on his horse, and 
above the clanking of the armor was heard again his cry, 
'Blood, blood, blood/' as he madly drove down the road. 

"Thus it was so long that few people could not tell of the 
strange doings they had seen of the Ghost of Clayton Hall. 

"There came one Christmas time, when just such a crowd 
as this gathered around the wasil bowl and laughed and shouted 
and made good cheer, when of a sudden all was hushed because 
of a heavy tread heard in the entry. In a moment the Ghost of 
Clayton Hall stood in the doorway. He quickly rushed in, 
seized the silver cup, and, falling upon his knees, cried, 'I have 
lost myself ! I have found myself ! I knew I should find itl I 
knew I should find it — the cup of the blessed Joseph!' Looking at 
his hands, 'The blood is gone! The blood is gone! The blood, 
the blood — ' 

"With this he vanished as quickly as he came, and carried 
with bim the silver cup. They followed the ghost to find him, 
where he would go, and he went straight to the haunted tower. 

"Jennj^ can you tell me what the ghost was? It was the 
living brother. His crime had run him crazy, and he fancied if 
he could find the Holy Grail his sin would be forgiven. He saw 
the goblet shining through the window and fancied he had 
found it. They found him, an old man, haggard and worn, 
kneeling before the cup on a tottering altar, mumbling, ^For- 
given! Forgiven! Cup of the blessed Joseph!'^ " - -. 


He read the mystical measures of Life 

As its music rose and fell; 
The harmony running through all its strife, 

Its notes false and true he knew well. 
An answering song ran through his soul. 

And its strains were so lofty and pure 
'Twould strengthen the spirit already bold. 

And hearten the weak to endure. 


But tempered hard by the chill of Time 

Was the bronze through which he blew. 
What wonder the world's ear found fault with his rime 

And fancied some notes were untrue! 
Alas, it was ever thus; some strain 

Of the inner harmonies 
May reach our dull and earthy brain 

Like the murmur of far-off seas; 

But the loftier song of the singer's heart 

Can ne'er make its melody known; 
Of its sweetness we can but know in part, 

Till he sings it before the Throne. 

J. H. P., '04. 



^ Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., NOVEMBER, 1902. No. 2 m 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College 

W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief 

Lamar Easterling, Associate Editor 

F. D. MeIvWn, Alumni Editor 

D. L. Bingham, Local Editor. 

JOS. H. Penix, Literary Editor. 

F. E. GunTER, Business Manager 

W. C. Bowman, M. S. Pittman, Assistants 

Remittances and husttiess communications should he sent to F. E. 
Giinter, Business Manager. Matter intended for puilication should be sent 
to W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief. 


Subscription Per Annum $1.00. Two Copies, Per Annum $1.50 


Aside from the all-important spiritual growth, there are 
two main lines along which the college student must develop 
if he ever attains unto any degree of nearness to the ideal col- 
lege-bred gentleman, namely, that of mental strength, the mere 
development of the mind as a motive power, and the cultivation 
of the social faculties, the developement of the social man. 

We find no difficulty in pointing out the way along which every 
student must travel in order to develop the mind. Great sign 
boards confront you at every departure-station from that of 
germinating Prepdom where the way is thorn pierced and beset 
with deamons of a too distant hope, to blossoming Seniority 
where the well trod wav opens into fields elysian, and ravishing 
aromas fill the air. The sign-boards bear the one word "study". 


Alt narrow "cuts" lead through the quagmires of delusion and 
the quicksands of false hopes. 

The line of social deyelopement is not so easily followed. 
It is none the less essential in the make-up of the typical col- 
lege-bred man. Neither I, nor the thousands of formulated 
rules can tell you what your social duty is. I would simply 
refer you to that longing you have for human sympathy, for the 
exchange of human emotions, and beg you not to disregard 
this innate desire, nor leave it unsatisfied. 

In the college world, as in the business world, there is 
more or less pretense, of sham and show, of social-insincerity. 
You speak to a fellow student, you smile pleasantly, you talk 
with him, but with some selfish end in view. On the other 
hand he returns your "good morning" cordially, he flatters you 
with word or look, there is not the genuine desire on either 
side to look deep down into the heart, to feel each pulsation, 
to catch with a sympathetic ear the song the inner mau sings 
that you may tune your own soul-cords that they may vibrate 
in unision with his. How little the college man knows of those 
with whom he daily associates! How rarely he interprets mo- 
tives instead of acts! You think because I am communicative 
I have an ax to grind, you do not become excommunicative be- 
cause you are far-seeing enough to fear that you may at 
some future time have a dull one. You find a little coterie 
of friends and because your eyes become accustomed to 
the garb they wear, you have no taste for any other, you are 
so dominated by their ideas and way of looking at things that 
you cannot appreciate the ideas of others. You try not to show 
it, but the trial itself writes legibly, and so you become a social 
hypocrite, a quick-glance-over- the-shoulder. Thus it goes. Ar- 
tificiality instead of naturalness. Hypocracy instead of sincerity. 
Oh for a social life in college that is spontaneous, a sincerity of 
feeling that has its fountain-head in the clear, crystal depths of 
the soul! 

Some one has said that we did not need an athletic editor, 
because we did not have athletics. The Trustees, together with 
the Conference, did see fit to take away from the athletic table 


its sweetest morsel when they denied us inter-collegiate games, 
but, though we did s'-lk, boy-like, for a- while, because »ve could 
not get what we liked best from the festal board, we claim the 
credit of beirg equally wise in taking what we liked best of 
what remained. But they must not deny me the privilege of 
going a little farther with my simile, and saying that the little 
boy likes the sugar-plums none the less because he is not per- 
mitted lo eat them. In fact, I do not know if he don't "loveum" 
that much harder. And, to add a little human nature, some- 
times mamma recoytsiders. 

So it is with great pleasure that I introduce to our friends 
an additional member cf the staff, who ushers in the newly 
created department with hopes for an increased sphere of action. 

We honor General Torrance, of the United States army, 
who proposed that the Union soldiers contribute, as an organi- 
zation, to the building of a Confederate Home. Such imperial 
souls command and merit the homage of a noble people. He is 
the type of that ideal citizenship towards which the nations of 
the world are moving, however slow the march may be, that 
knows no war of nation against nation, of state against state, of 
section against section, of individual against individual, but 
recognizes only those principles of good against evil, such as 
may have their bloodiest battle-grounds withiu the walls of an 
individual soul. 

But there are some things which the touch of other than 
consecrated hands would pollute, some duties which a high- 
minded people cannot permit others to perform. And, while a 
gift comiig from General Torrance's own hands would be grate- 
fully accepted, as would one from the hands of any other man 
animated by the ssme lofty patriotism, though he live noith of 
the Mason and Dixon line, yet the South cannot and must not 
allow their all-comprehending bentficence to force a fad-gift from 
a reluctant people, nor others to do with a strained ethical con- 
science what she is exhorted by all that is noble of life and sacred 
of death to do. 


The United Sons and Daughters of Confederate Veterans 
have done what our Legislature has so far failed to do, and 
promises to do what none but those inspired by a consuming- 
zeal for the aecomplishment of a great purpose could do. They 
have builded homes for the helpless veterans, and comforted 
them in their old age. 

They tell us that the veterans themselves defeated the bill 
which was introduced in our Legislature for the appropriation of 
sufl&cient funds to purchase Beauvoir, the old home of Jefferson 
Davis. The reason is evident to the Sons and Daughters of the 
Confederacy, and should be to every one, namely, that the small 
pension which now enables some old soldiers, rich in soul-food 
though poor in that which nourishes the body, to spend their 
few remaining days around the home-fireside, would ba removed 
and they themselves compelled to enter the Soldiers' Home. 
Every Mississippian should exert his influence, as are these 
organizations, to have the appropriation made and at the same 
time guarantee to the veterans, who are satisfied with their pres- 
ent conditions, the continuance of the pension. Then our 
soldiers could return from the States whose kind hospitality we 
have by our indifference forced them to enjoy, and, together with 
those who have no loved ones with whom to pass the closing 
days of a life nobly lived, assemble around the fireside of their 
chieftain and spend their declining years beneath his kindly 

This Is why we have no patience with the kind of sentiment 
that would depreciate the value of these organizations. Tnis is 
why we have absolute contempt for some modern orators who 
proclaim with exhaustive eloquence that there is "no North, no 
South, no East, no West," and yet have no concep^on of a 
patriotism that will allow a Southern youth to cherish the 
memories of a father nor build homes for his needy comrades. 
Who cannot see how that reverence and love for the Stars and 
Bars can be reconciled with loyalty to the Stars and Stripes. 
We will not do the injustice to the Northern people to denom- 
inate "Northerners" those who at Cincinnati would have torn 
down and insulted the Confederate flag; we will rather say, 


those who lived under the barn from '6i to '65 and whom you 
might recognize by their cowardly, bleached faces, were it not 
for the fact that the twentieth century attitude of the North and 
South had, by assuring them that no guns would be fired, 
exposed them to the tanning beams of a Union's sun. 

Let the United Sons and Daughters of Confederate Vet- 
erans go on with their noble work. Let those of Mississippi 
purchase Bouvoir and invite, uq\. force, every Confederate veteran 
to enjoy the hospitality which their sons and daughters have 
created. And when the South-loved, world-honored, old men look 
out upon the misty Gulf may they read a mystic meaning in the 
murmur of the waves that bathe their own home shore, and feel 
a sweet, sacred peace beneath the trees that sift into softness the 
light of their sun. 

The prize of ten dollars offered by Professor Bishop for the 
best story contributed to the Collegian during the session, will 
be subject to the following conditions: 

First — All bona fide students in Millsaps College, of any 
department, may compete. 

Second — The Story must be original and hitherto unpub- 

Third — The Story must actually appear in one number of 
the Collegian and must therefore be subject to the regulations 
of the Board of Editors as regards length. 

Fourth — The Editors reserve the right to publish any 
story submitted. 

Fifth — Competent judges will be selected by the profes- 
sor of English and approved by the Board of Editors. 

Sixth — A prize of $10.00 will be awarded after the last is- 
sue of the Collegian for the session. 

This is the second prize offered to stimulate interest in liter- 
ary work. The Essay Medal offered for the first time last year 
by Miss Bessie Clark was the first. These two prizes are 
the best offered, not merely because they afford liberal financial 
compensation, but by their very nature they stand for more 

THE MiLLSAPS coi,i,:i;gian 17 

honor. In the first place in a worthy literary production are 
consentrated the physical vigor from the athletfc field, fluency 
of speech from the society hall, general information from the 
library and past experiences, accurate knowledge from the class 
room, and inherent talent, the crowning ingredient. In the 
second place, the plans for the awardal of these two medals in- 
sure justice. In short, the best all-around man is almost if not 
absolutely sure to be the winner. 



JOS. H. PENIX, Editor. 


Tn this volume of stories, the author has confessedly dep- 
arted from the usual, and indeed, the accepted motive of fiction, 
seeking other, and, as he thinks, more enduring causes by 
which to determine the courses and conduct of men and women. 
The iove motive, though one catches occasional glimpses of it, 
is not dominant but merely incidental, occupying the very least 
place that can be given to a passion so powerful. 

It is peculiarly an American baok for it has to do with a 
subject that is peculiar to itself; American politics. The author 
has certainly taken an almost boundless field and one, too, 
which should have special interest for Americans. The tales of 
political intrigues at Washington with their to vering triumphs 
aud fearful failures, whether these be the triumphs and fail- 
ures of zealous patriotism or selfish ambition, have a strong 
fascination for the man who can view them undisturbed by his 
own personal views. 

Yet, in our opinion, he has dredged some very insignificant 
stories out of the vast lees of modern politics. One is almost 
discouraged after reading the first two. Tiiey are too ordinary. 
There is in them nothing so unusual, nothing so vital as to 
arouse special interest, and one feels that they are hardly worth 
the telling. Such things as they recount might happen and 
doubtless have happened a thousand times, and there are no 
striking scenes nor circumstances to redeem their sameness. 
True, they are well-told, for the author has a swiftly-moving 
style which makes the events recorded pass before the mind in 
rapid, vivid succession, producing a wholeness of effect, and 
compelling a degree of attention that could not otherwise be 

* Stratagems aud Spoils, by William Allen White, Scribner's. 


But as one reads on, interest increases steadily to the end 
of the book. The events, if not more extraordinary, are, never- 
theless, more thrilling. Greater interests are at stake, principles 
are involved that appeal more directly to the paople in general. 
In A Triuynph' s Evidence, we have an outcrop of ''the tender 
passion", for the comparative absence of which, from these tales, 
the author apologizes in his preface. Bat, whether o' not this 
apology is necessary, we note one thiiig throughout the volume; 
the indirect influence of the American woman in politics, the 
"power behind the throne" in modern political strategy. Not 
that the writer believes in woman's suffrage; he simply illustrates 
her influence for what it is worth. Sometimes that influence 
leads to better, sometimes to worse conditions, according as it 
is thrown on the side of right or wrong. 

The last story, A Most Lamentable Comedy, is, however, best 
of all, for it has a cause of interest which is all its own. It 
fairly represents a phase in the history of our country, especially 
in the history of the Great West, which is of considerable in- 
terest to the student of sociology, portraying as it does a period 
of agitation similar to that which has so often stirred the Gallic 
peoples, a time when the germ of revolution was verily in the 
air. Indeed, it was to a degree a'temporary revolution. There 
was the "Farmer's Alliance," which, fro-n the extremeness and 
extravagance of its views, received at least the semblance of a 
revolutionary machine. There was the usual revolutionary 
inversions of the strata of society, when the first became last 
and the last, first, and Dan Gregg was the revolutionary dic- 
tator. The delineation of this grotesque character and the story 
of his triumph and overthrow taken in connection with this 
peculiar social freak, and indeed the excellencies of other stories 
in the volume, make it well worth the reading. 


This new book by Sir A. Conan Doyle, with the subtitle 
Another Adventure of Sherlock Holmes, is a detective story com- 

• The Hound of the Baskervilles, by A. Conan Doyle. McClure, 
Phillips & Co., New York. 


paring very favorably with others of the same series. 

All its interest centers around a subtle mystery such as the 
author delights iu having the ideal detective, Sherlock Holmes, 
to untaugle. The scene is laid in a desolate district of Devon- 
shire, England, where, in the midst of waste and moor and 
mystery, stands Baskerville Hall. The life of Sir Charles Bas- 
kerville has just come to a sudden and mysterious end, and his 
nephew, as next of kin, comes over from America to take pos- 
session of his ancestral home. But through Dr. Mortimer, a 
friend to Sir Charles, an old family legend comes to light, and, 
in co-junction with a certain warning to the young heir, is 
given to Sherlock Holmes for solution. The legend goes that, 
beginning with a Sir Hugo Baskerville, the deaths of all the 
family have been due to a gigantic and supernatural black 
hound, and the accounts of its appearance are such as to strike 
terror to all, especially to its intended victims. Holmes begins, 
in his characteristic way, an investigation concerning this sup- 
posed supernatural destroyer, and, by his wonderful powers, 
discovers that, in the cases of Sir Charles and Sir Henry, his 
heir, it is a real and monstrous hound which a shrewd villain, a 
Baskerville with the assumed name of Stapleton, is employing 
to remove his kinsmen from between himself and the estate. 

The story is interesting, and is made more so by the skilful 
manner In which it is told. The author has made the scenery 
of the surrounding country harmonize perfectly with the super- 
stitious conceptions of its inhabitants. Nothing could be more 
weird and desolate than that vast wilderness of moor with its 
alternate tors and marshes and rude stone huts of a forgotten 
race. With the supernatural element, he has admirably suc- 
ceeded In mingling the criminal also, and the villain Stapleton 
is much the more dangerous because he has popular superstition 
to screen his crime. 

One is kept entirely ignorant of what the hound may prove 
to be until toward the end, and the story, as is usual with the 
stories of this author, abounds in complete surprises. The sus- 
picion towards Barrymore, and the event which proves it false; 
the mysterious man on the tor, and the revelation of his identity; 


the unmasking of the real character of Stapleton, and the tragic 
and surprising accident which ended the life of the convict on 
the moor, all produce an intense eagerness to know the final 

But when we reach it, we are somewhat disappointed. True, 
it is exciting enough to comport with the preceding scenes of 
the story; but there is a certain artificiality, a certain stagy 
effect which, though it may be made attributable to the detec- 
tive's passion for a supreme climax, seems to the reader a case 
of rash imprudence. 

The explanatory chapter which ends the novel is unneces- 
sary and contributes nothing to the effect of the story. 



H. V. W ATKINS, Editor. 

The status of this department is unstable, although, in con- 
sideration of the poor success of the Athletic Association of the 
past two years, it may be reasonably anticipated from the out- 
look that by the most strenuous efforts life and vitality may 
again be infused into this organization. Although Millsaps is 
not allowed to take part in the inter collegiate sports, she is not 
at all behind in other branches of this department. In '95 the 
first regular field-day was held, and until a year or two ago 
these continued to be important and most interesting occasions 
of the early summer, and attracted much attention from the 
friends of the Institution over the State. It can be truly said 
that as an average Millsaps can show as good records as any 
other Southern college, and, taking into consideration the 
limited facilities for these sports, and numerous draw-backs, the 
results are excellent. 

With the advent of inter-collegiate games, and especially 
foot-ball, all interest seems to have been detracted from all other 
phases of athletics and centered in the organization of a strong 
foot-bpU eleven, which might in time cope with the strongest 
elevens of the neighboring States. The prospect was favorable 
and Millsaps bad some good material and had secured an expe- 
rienced trainer for the year's work, and the possibility of having 
a winning eleven kept enthusiasm awake, and this hope was in 
some degree realized. Millsaps played four games. In the 
first, which was against the University of Tulane, then recog- 
nized as one of the swiftest of the South's elevens, was defeated 
by a score of 30 to o, and was again unsuccessful in the second 
game, against the University of Louisiana eleven, also a strong 
organization. But the third game, against the eleven of the 
Greenville Athletic Club, Millsaps was victorious by a score of 
35 to o, and two weeks after defeated the lyouisiana State Uni- 


versity, whose eleven had defeated her in her second g^ame. 
Millsaps was improving, but at this point, when every indica- 
tion was for greater success, the Board of Trustees and the Con- 
ferences of Mississippi declared that inter-collegiate games were 
not in harmony with the purpose and establishment of the Insti- 
tution, and thereupon abolished all inter-collegiate contests of 
this character. As soon as this move was inforced all interest 
in college athletics seems to have gone from the students, even 
those who had been most enthusfastically connected with the 

From this point up until the opening of the present session 
nothing effective was accomplished by the associations. But by 
the earnest efforts of a few students new life seems to have taken 
hold of the organization, and with a seemingly fair chance for 

The principal aim of this year's work is the development of 
a greater interest in the gymnasium, and to this end, recognizing 
the improbability of the anti-inter collegiate regulations being 
rescinded, the managers will direct their efforts, and no cause 
will be left unmoved that could affect the consummation of this 
end. If the association of this year proves a success, and this is 
partially assured, it is the purpose of the students having the 
matter under advisement to arrange to have some student, who 
shall show by his year's work his especial fitness, to take a 
course in the training school in Mont Eagle during the next 
vacation, thus giving the students of the next year advantages 
which can only be afforded under the instruction of a thoroughly 
experienced leader. 

While the gymnasium is to be the important work of the 
year, yet there are so many phases of coliege athletics that there 
is no student who can not take part and render some assistance 
by which the condition of this department may ne bettered. 
There is as good material in Millsaps as in any other college, 
and it needs but the proper work to bring it out. There is noth- 
ing which is calculated to arouse the best and noblest qualities 
of a student more than pure, wholesome athletics. 

There is much interest being manifested among the mem- 
bers of the Athletie Association in the organization of foot-ball 
elevens in the several classes, and the better equipment, which 
has been secured at a great cost to the association, will stimulate 
this movement to a greater activity, and some interesting games 
may be expected before the closing of the season. 



For any college to be progressive in all respects, it is of 
primary importance that each alumnus exert himself to the 
utmost for the material upbuilding of his Alma Mater, since he 
is her direct representative to the people. It is therefore essen- 
tial that he keep in constant touch with the life of the institu- 
tion, and particularly that he subscribe for its magazine, the 
only mouth-piece by which a college may speak directly to the 
world. There are many more things into which he should 
throw his soul; but for any just conception of his duty to his 
Alma Mater, this much is absolutely necessary. 

It was recently suggested that a "MiUsaps College Club" 
be formed by our alumni, in order to secure The Cohegian at 
reduced rates. Such a suggestion is worthy of consideration; 
and it would be well if such an organization could be perfected 
at the annual meeting of the Alumni Association in June. 

On the night of November 5, Mr. Allen Thompson was 
married to Miss Mattie Cavett. Mr. Thompson is the first mar- 
ried of the class of 1902. We congratulate him. 

Mr. T. W. Hollomnn, '00, in his brief business career has 
had remarkable success. Even while in college Mr. Holloman 
won many enviable distinctions. Twice he represented the 
college at State iuter-collegiate contests, being in one instance 
the successful contestant. After graduation he entered the I/aw 
School of the University of Virginia, and while there in com- 
petitive contest achieved the distinction of representing that 
university in the Virginia-Columbia debate. Mr. HoUomaa has 
located in Alexandria, L,i., where he has quite a lucrative 


Mr. J. D. Tillman, Jr., is taking a business course in 
Poughkeepsie, N. Y. 

Mr. A. W. Dobyna, '99, is teaching in Vancouver, Wash. 

Millsaps College entered upon a new era in her history with 
the election of Mr. A. H. Shannon as a member of her faculty. 
Prof, Shannon received his degree in 1898, and the next year 
entered Vandeibilt University, from which he graduated with 
high honors. He is the first graduate of this college to receive 
a professorship from the hands of the institution. Prof. Shan- 
non holds the chair of Sociology. 

We appreciate the interest shown by Mr. C. M. Simpson, 
'02, in regard to the welfare of The Collegian. Mr. Simpson 
occupies one of the important pulpits in Mississippi. We take 
just pride in him. 

Mr. George L,. Hairell. '99, was recently elected Professor 
of Science in Centenary College. Already by his earnest devo- 
tion to work he has endeared himself to both faculty and student 
body. We feel assured of making no mistake in prophesying for 
Mr. Harrell a most successful future. 

That our alumni, as a body, are taking high rank as citizens, 
is a matter of just pride to the institution. That such is not 
always the case with schools has often been exemplified by the 
experience of many an institution of note, in which a loose* 
degraded student body is permltied to lun rampant, and conse- 
quently a body of debauched hoodlums has been turned out 
upon the world instead of a class of men enriching to the citi- 
zenship of the State. 





The Emory and Henry Era is decidedly one of the best 
magazines we have seen this year. It comes to us in a neat and 
attractive cover, the various depaitments are well edited, and 
show care and thought in their preparation. The matter is ar- 
ranged very tastily. Among other good things it contains four 
stories and five poems.-^- The "White Papoose" is an interesting 
and cleverly written Indian story. The plot is happily conceiv- 
ed and the story is well told. In "What Might Have Been" 
the reader is somewhat startled at the end, by the disclosure that 
the hero had been dreaming all the while. The "Beginning of 
My Happiness" is a railroad story of the wild west. The nar- 
rative is easy but the plot seems somewhat worn. "November' 
is a pretty little poem and contains some beautiful lines. "Far 
Away" is clear and poetical. The other poetry was read with 
interest. The muses have evidently not been inactive at Kmory 
and Henry College. We congratulate its staff upon their suc- 

The Southwestern Magazine is filled with a large num- 
ber of interesting articles ; but fiction is scarce and poetry is al- 
together wanting. What is the matter? One might think our 
friends in Texas are passing into the age of "prose and reason," 
judging from ihe number of serious and heavy productions. 
"The Right of a State to Secede" is written in a strong style 
and shows some originality and independence of thought in its 
treatment, together with a pretty fair knowledge of the constitu- 
tion and its histor3^ But as a matter of fact it is pretty gener- 
ally held all over the country that a state has not the right to 
secede. "Chinese civilization" and "Oliver Cromwell" are two 
good orations. "Virtue the True Basis of Happiness" shows 


pretty clearly what true happiness is, and where it is to be 
found. "Catherines Mission" is an interesting short story, 
though it appears slightly too much condensed. The magazine 
is well gotten-up and does credit to its iustitu ion. However, 
we might suggest that more poetry and spicy clippings would 
add more charm and relish to it. 

The Blue and Gold comes to our desk in quite an up- 
to-date and attractive cover. "The Character of Robt. E. Lee" 
is a glowing tribute to that great man and shows a true and 
comprehensive appreciation of his character. The "Story of a 
Forgotten Race" is an interesting and instructive story of the 
now almost extinct Hurons. It is well told and is interesting 
from a historical point of view." The editorials are strong and 
sensible. The exchange department is bright and suggestive. 
Taken all in all it reflects credit on its staff as well as its institu- 

We are pleased to welcome to our desk the Vox Wesleyan, 
of far-away Manitoba. It is a handsomely bound magazine and 
reflects the life of its institution very credibly. This issue is 
supported by the contributions of several able men. "Silver 
Islet" is a pretty little sketch. Its departments are interesting 
and sensible; but there seems to be a dearth of poety and fiction 
in this issue. 

It is with great pleasure we acklowlege the receipt of the 
Whitworth Clionian, It is a bright and attractive magazine, 
and contains much good reading. "An Omen" is a pretty little 
story. We expect much of the Clionian this season and with its 
handsome and dashing staff we have no doubt but that it will 
come up to the greatest expectations. 

The Mississippi College Magazine contains a good article, 
'A Plea for the Extention of the Rural Free School Term," 


by Dr. Hillman Brough, it is very long though, occupying 
about half of the whole space. Otherwise the magazine is 
pretty meagre in Its various departments. It seems as though 
the "ads" have broken away from their proper places — in the 
back, and arranged themselves for full view between the other 
departments. Taken all in all it bids fair to have a successfu,! 

The Arizona Monthly has a good article on the "Defender 
of the Constitution." The departments are short, but interest- 
esting. We predict a successful year for the Monthly. 

The Olive ayid Blue and the Revielle are always read 
with great interest. They always have a good stock of news, 
especially about the various games of foot-ball. They reflect in 
a very creditable manner the life and spirit of their respective 

The Randolph - Macon Monthly is one of our best 
exchanges. "Bismarck," by ly, S. B., is a good, short sketch, 
which is well written. "Nature at Dawn" sparkles with descrip- 
tions, and shows a true love and appreciation of nature. This 
issue is especially rich in poetry. "Hush-a-By Songs" are 
pretty experiments, and show merit. We welcome the 
Monthly to our desk. 

We take pleasure in acknowledging the receipt, also, of the 
following exchanges; Purple and Green, The Alpha, Maroon 
and White, Crimson and Gold, Ihe College Reflector, University 
of lulane Magaziyie, Vanderbilt Observer, The Journal, Missis 
sippi College Magazine. 


November month of shroud and grave, 
Why are thy features yellow-veiled? 


Look! Nature's ruddy life has paled 
Since she to you the sceptre gave. 
Why falls the blade, the petals fold? 
Why on thy foot-stool leaves of gold? 

'Tis true I bring the chill of death 

To still the song and wilt the flower, 

But 'tis not mine but God's great power 
That blights the living with a breath — 

And lo! when April is your queen. 

His smile shall turn the sere to green. 

— B., in Emory and Henry Kra, 

They sat upon the garden stile, 
The youthlet and the maid. 
" The stars above are not as bright 
As you," he softly said. 

She lifted up her little hand 
'T'word Luna's golden light; 
** The moon above is not as full 

As you, my dear, to-night." — Exchange. 

Johnny had a jump-up, 

A hustler! 'Twas a sin 
For Johnny to place his sitdown 

Right on a horrid pin ! 
The teacher had a spasm; 

Dismissed Johnny from the room. 
While Latin went to thunder — 

Now pins are on the boom! 

— B. P., in Emory and Henry Era. 

She dozed in class — 
The Senior lass — 

In spite of Class-room clatter. 
The Prof, grew wise 

30 the; mii,i,saps coi.i,kgian 

Stared in surprise 
Then fired a question at her. 

"He's called. D'ye hear?" 
Said some one near. 

The words arroused her ire some. 
She turned away, 
"Oh, well, just say 

I'm not at home. He's tiresome." 


They stood beneath a spreading tree 
And talked as lovers should, 
And then to seal the compact, he 
Cut "Mabel" on the wood. 


Now back to town they both have strayed, 
One day they chanced to meet 

And then and there that self same maid 
Cut "Charlie" on the street.— EX. 


Two years ago she showed to me 
Her B. A. with an honest pride. 

To-day she has a new degree — 
M. A., with a B. A. B Y by her side.— I,ife. 




Exams have come and gone but the good part is that there 
are others. 

R. I,. Hayes, who was a member of the class of '06, has 
withdrawn from schcol. 

C. D. Potter '02 is now a travelling salesman for The 
Dayton Scale Co., Dayton, Ohio. 

J. H. Penix was on the sick list this month but we are glad 
to report him able to be out again. 

RevJ, C.Kilgore of the North Mississippi Conference made 
Millsaps a visit several days ago and placed his son in school 

Rev. Dr. W. T. J. Sullivan, of the North Mississippi 
Conference, was the guest of his son Dr. J. M. Sullivan last 

M. C. Henry has been quite sick for the past few days but 
is better now. As soon as he is able he will take a short trip to 
recuperate his strength. 

Some of our time honored have learned by sad ex- 
perience that the proprietors of Lampton grove are not giving 
away pecans this year. 

Millsaps has challenged the University to a joint debate to 
take place next spring. The answer to the challenge is expect- 
ed during the next few days. 

Mr. F. Roder Smith spent several days "down home" last 
week. He reports an excellent time. Sports will please ap- 
ply to him for the latest fads. 

Mr. H. A. Wood member of last year's Sophomore class, 


now principal of the Montgomery High School, visited old 
friends at the college this week. 

Dr. Sullivan spent several days during last week on a geol- 
ogical Survey along the G. & S. I. R. R. He brought back 
a number of valuable specimens. 

Rev. W. ly. Duren '02 now located at Vaiden Miss., passed 
through Jackson a few days ago enroute to Crystal Springs, 
wbere he attended the wedding of a friend. 

Capt. Jodis Baker and daus^htei of Natchez, spent a morning on 
the campus visiting the several buildings. While in Jackson 
they were the guests of Dr. aad Mrs. G. B. Holloman. 

Messrs. W. N. Duncan and E. D. Mellen of the Galloway, 
and G. R. Nobles and O. W. Bradley of the I^amar' were elect- 
ed to represent the societies in the commencement debate. 

Hon. R. H. Henry gave us quite an interesting talk on the 
lyouislana Purchase Exposition last Wednesday dursing the 
chapel hour. His talk was highly beneficial to all who heard it. 

Rev. Henry B. Corri Pres. of the Centenary college was 
the guest of Dr. Sullivan Saturday and Sunday Nov. 8th and 
9th. He preached at the Methodist church Sunday morning 
and again at night. 

The sophomore class election last week resulted as fol- 
lows: J. E. Carruth Pres., W. Johnson V. Pres., Jao. Picketts 
Sec, A. H. Whitfield Treas., W. D. Hughes Capt., foot ball 
team, A. P. Hand Historian, and M. S. Pittman Poet. 

Mr. and Mrs. C, N. Guice were on the campus the first of 
the month. Mr. Guice was a member ot tha class of '99. We 
suppose he was reviewing with her the scenes of his youthful 
struggles and recounting to her the pleasures which will n'er be 
his again. 

? he Department of Mathematics and Astronomy of Millsaps 
College extends thanks to Dr. A. M. Muckenfuss for ten dollars, 
he having directed that this ammount of his Centennial ThankS' 


offering should be thus appropriated. We wish for him and 
family increased happiness and success. 

Prof. Shannon to Duncan in the Biology class. 
"Microbes in a kiss you say? 
Right you are my boy; 
lyittle germs of purest bliss, 
Bacilli of joy." 

The foot ball suits have at last arrived and football is now 
the topic of the day. The comming game between the classes 
is exciting quite a good deal of interest and many suppositions 
as to the final outcome are expressed daily. While the two 
teams are not in the pink of condition, still a good game is 

The Junior class elected its officers for the ensuing year 
Friday evening Nov. 7th. The result of the election showed 
W.N. Duncan, Pres. , Miss Crane, V.Pres. , D.G. Frantz, Secy., 
W. C. Bowman, Treas., J. H. Penix, Poet, H. V. Watkins, 
Historian, D. L,. Bingham, Capt. football team and Samuel Hall 
Floyd, Jr. DUDK. 

Coiieffe Studenta/ 


Jjhe jCar^est and Srrettitst jCine 
Uo Select ^rom in the City. 

Tl^e simply J^ave an Cleyant jCine of ^anoy 
Soods of all jf^inds. 2l/e are 


^or Christinas Soods, 

*U/e Solicit the ^atronaye of the College ^ays , 

2/6 S. State. 


W Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., JANUARY, 1903 No. 4- g 


The town of "Little Medicine" was situated in a beautiful 
vallej' in the Rockies. The eastern part of the valley broaden- 
ed out i-nto a plain; but on the western ead it narrowed to a 
point. Here it has only one outlet, "The Blackfoot Gap" — so 
called from the neighboring Indians, The little town was pros- 
perous, as could be seen by the general appearance of the place 
and the air of its inhabitants. It was a very important post for 
the far traders. Here they exchanged their bad whiskey and 
worthless trinkets for the skins and pelts brought by the In- 
dians* But none of the neighboring towns (the nearest was 
thirty miles away) envied them their prosperity. Their close 
proximity to a large and restless tribe of Indians was the reason 
that the population was no larger: none save bold spirits 
lived in the place. But some of the men had gone back East 
and brought back their wives ana daughters to the little town, 
showing their confidence either in their ability to defend the 
town, or the peacefulness of the Indians. 

A fur trader rode into the town one day in haste, with in- 
formation which cast a cloud of gloom over all. Black Crow 
had escaped from Fort Smith and was back among the Indians 
stirring them up. The Indians had put on their war paint, and 
war dances were held nightly. A meeting of the principal men 
was called at the town "Hotel." They discussed the news that 
tiiey had just received, but they seemed undecided what to do. 
Finally, a young man arose who was tall and well-formed. "How 
many more times are we to be hoaxed by this same cry of 
'Wolf!' said lie. "The man who brought this information is 
neither renowned for his temperance nor his strict adherence to 
the truth. No doubt he has filled himself with 'firewater', 
hence be has seenthe?e visions and dreamed these dreams. We 


have neglected our business at this same cry before to fight an 
enemy who is too peaceable and too lazy to do anything save lie 
in the sun or swap horses. And if they do come we are well 
able to defend ourselves." The optimistic tone of his speech 
was well in accordance with the nature of his hearers. The 
sturdy and hardy pioneer of the West, with his honest and. 
frank nature, could not long hold a gloomy view of things. 

For a few minutes nothing was said. Presently some one 
in the corner arose. He was gaunt and grizzled, and it was evi- 
dent that he had passed the three score line. He looked almost 
timidly over his audience as he said: "Friends, this young man. 
has tried to persuade you to go back to your work and take no 
heed of what he calls 'idle report.' I have fought and 
known Black Crow as an implacable enemy of the white race, 
and knowing this, I beg of you, in the name of all you hold 
dear, to arm yourselves and watch and be ready for the Indians. 
All that the young man has said about the character of the fur 
trader is true, but remember that truth does not always use dis- 
crimination in choosing her messengers. It is more than 
probable that this man's story is true. I have fought Indians 
when some of you were babes* I was a scout in the army many 
years, and I say that if the Indians do come, and you are un- 
prepared to protect these helpless women and children, may I 
never live to see the day. In conclusion, I will say that at the 
last cry of 'Wolf,' the wolf came and devoured the herd." The 
old scout, for such be was, sat down. 

The men had made up their minds, and the simple earnest- 
ness of the old man did not move them. They dc-cided to await 
developments, and with this understanding the men dispersed 
again to their various occupations. The old scout sold the skias 
he had brought with htm to the agent of the fur company and 
walked slowly back to his little shanty, which was near the 
western end of the valley. His heart was heavy because the 
men of the village did not recognize the great danger that hung 
over them. He knew that the Indans were coming, and he 
foresaw the result if the men weie not prepared; flaming houses, 
women and children tomahawked, the glow ot burning houses 


throwing a bright light on the ghastly scene. He tried to shut 
the vision from his mind. He walked the mile between the town 
and his little two-roomed hut. The night was fast approaching' 
and it was bitter cold. He made a fire and warmed himself; 
then he reached up on the rack and got down his trusty repeat- 
ing rifle, put on his bandoleer and went out into the night. He 
was going to see his traps which were on the other side of the 
Gap. Just as he reached this narrow place, he heard something 
which made his old heart jump. Over the cold wind there came 
the irregular tramp of many horse's feet on the ground frozen like 
hard rock. The old man halted and listened. Yes, there too 
came the dreaded yell of the Blackfeet Indians on the war path. 
Soon he was able to see them as the moon shone on their blank- 
eted bodies, and their^aces painted a bright vermillion. There 
were about five hundred of them, he estimated, as they swung 
into view. The old man climbed upon a big boulder which was 
a few score yards away from the narrow place. Here he hid 
behind a small rock, placed his rifle in a crevice so as to bear on 
the opening into the valley and waited. At some distance from 
the entrance to the valley, the Indians stopped, gathered to- 
gether in a circle on their horses, and held a consultation. They 
stopped yelling and began to ride slowly and cautiously toward 
the place where the old man was concealed. 

The old scout thought at first of hurrying to the village and 
rousing the men, but he soon saw that this could not be done for 
the Indians were on their swift mountain ponies, and he was old 
and not a very fast runner. He could easily have saved him- 
self by hiding among the rocks until the Indians had passed and 
then escaped; but he resolved that he would try to hold the pass 
alone until the shots exchanged would bring the men to the 
scene: then the Indians could easily be foiled in their attempt to 
gain entrance to the place. The Indians contmueO to advance 
and the old scout gripped his rifle harder, his nerves became 
steadier and the joy of conflict returned: he was almost young 
again. On they came with the fierce Black Crow at their head, 
his countenance o'erspread with a mocking, sinister, smile, 
which made him look more like a demon than a human. Be- 


hind him, in a very irregular manner, came the remainder of 
the body. When they had nearly reached the Gap, they stopped 
again, and finally one of the braves left the main body and ad- 
vanced towards the place where the old scout lay in wait to re- 
connoitre. The old man waited until the Indian was very near, 
then shot him through the head. The report of the rifle had an 
electrical effect on the rest of the band; they immediately drew 
off to a safer distance. Black Crow could be seen among them, 
working up their enthusiasm and stimulating their courage by 
his stirring speeches. They arranged their horses in regular 
order of two in each file, for only two mounted horsemen could 
get through the pass at a time. Again they came on, the old 
scout picked off the two front savages, and two more soon shared 
a similar fate. The Indian leader was enraged because his 
choicest braves were being held back by one man, for by this 
time he had found out by the report of the rifle, that there was 
but one opposing their passage. The Indians still pressed for- 
ward but found their death at the pass. Then, finding all their 
attempts were in vain, and the mouth of the pass being filled 
with their dead companions, they drew off until a rock concealed 
them from the view of the old man. Then ensued a period of 
quiet, and it would have seemed to an ordinary observer that 
the savages had decided to abandon the attempt; but the old 
scout knew that the leader of the Indians would not be thus eas- 
ily toiled in his cherished plans. 

The old man waited. The moon passed behind a cloud for 
a few minutes, and then came out agiiu. An Indian rose from 
behind a rock, and a second later the report of a rifle echoed 
through the valley. Black Crow had crawled on the ground un- 
perceived by the old man, and it was he who fired almost point 
blank at the scout. The shot was followed almost immediately 
by another from the rifle of the scout, and the famous Indian 
chief dropped inert and lifeless. But the shot of the Indian had 
found Icdgment in the old man's leg, and the bone was broken 
and shattered. As the Indians pressed forward eagerly in an- 
ticipated triumph after hearing the shots fired, they found the 
body of their dead chief, and set up a frightful yell. They were 


panic stricken at the sig^ht, and a few well directed shots from 
the wounded defender of the pass intensified it. The spirit of 
the Indians had been tamed by the death of their chief for he 
was the moving spirit of the uprising. 

By his death the trouble was ended and no further efforts 
were made to gein the pass. They departed carrying his body. 
The old, wounded defender was left alone. 

The moon and the glistening stars shone on the solid mass 
of white. The flakes of snow were falling thick and fast. An 
hour passed, and the old man realized that he was dying from 
loss of blood and cold. He knew that he could not hope to 
reach the village, even if he had not been wounded, for the cold 
had numbed his body and his path to the village was hard and 
rugged, difficult to be passed even in good weather, and now 
that the snow has fallen, it would be almost worth a man's life 
to attempt to reach the little town. He realized that here he 
would and must die. Before his eyes came the vision of other 
days. In a home far back East, he saw his old mother a widow. 
He saw himself young and thoughtless, and remembered with 
what sacrifices his education had been completed. And then 
when he had completed his course and returned to the little 
house where his old mother lived, how she had clasped him to 
her bosom with the simple w^ords "'my boy." And then he had 
met her . Why had God decreed that it should b'- ? She who 
had played wnth his love as a baby with a toy, only to cast it 
aside — strange it was that he could not forget her even when 
death's cold fingers grasped him in their iron clutch. Then he 
remembered how he had resolvod to go tc the far west, where 
he had heard that there was life in all its wild and primitive as- 
pects, with none of the artificial colorings of civilization. How 
he had fought the red men of the plain, and had helped to drive 
them back beyond the mountains; and here too he had fought 
that greater fight against himselt and conquered. Here, in the 
the great, wild, sympathetic West, the heart of man com- 
muned with nature, and through nature his hands often touch- 
ed God's. Here his sorrows had faded into insignificance, and 
in the land which he had fought for, he wished and longed to 


die. Again the moon hid his smiling countenance behind a 
cloud, and then the light of the old scout went out. 

There were three days during which the snow continued to 
fall and then there came a thaw. The body of the old scout 
and also the bodies of the Indians that had not been carried off by 
survivors of the marauding band were found. On the face of the 
dead hero there was the smile of one who had found relief. The 
grateful citizens erected a monument to him in the town square 
and any citizen of the prosperous city of Brownsville, Colorado, 
(the name of the old scout was Brown) will take pride in show- 
ing you a gravestone on which is the simplejepitaph "He Fought 
a Good Fight." "This," the citizen will doubtless remark, 
*'This is the last resting place of one who preserved this town 
from an Indian massacre a couple of decades ago at the cost of 
his own life." 


Softly the sun is streaming 

O'er mine own, my native hills. 
Brightly its rays are beaming 

On forests and dales and rills; 
But in sadness I turn from my home once so dear, 
The sunlight has lost all its power to cheer, 
Nor the warm smile of friends more to gladness may wake 
My heart, that in silence and sadness must break. 

For a great, sweet hope has vanished 

From my soul like the setting sun, 
And joy from m3/ heart is banished 

As light when the day is done; 
And half of my heart is buried there, 
The half that was free from sorrow and care. 
The half that quickened at fond thoughts of thee, 
The half that without thee could not be. 


Just at the head of the Delta, 

Where the great Mississippi doth send, 
Part eastward, part westward, the waters. 

That far up his journey did blend, 
The current doth murmur in protest and pain 
As it parts ne'er to meet in the wide world again; 
As by ways that diverge it seeketh the sea. 
The eddy doth sigh such a sad monody. 

Into the Gulf, which the Tropic^ 

Kiss with a quickening breathy 
One part of the waters goes bounding 

To find in its bosofi a rest; 
And there, locked in by the arms of the shore. 
Smiles back at the sunlight forevermore, 
And the torrents through which its waters have passed 
Are forgot in the thought that it finds rest at last. 

On to the northward, another 

Seeks a haven that cannot be, 
Caught in the course of the Gulf Stream, 

It is hurried far o'er the sea; 
On b}' the lands where flowers ne'er bloom. 
Where but the seal's lone cry startles the gloom, 
'Round mountains of ice, by deserts of snow, 
Bleak emblems of loneliness, sorrow, and woe. 

The first, of your life is a figure, 

The blessed pow'r to forget. 
To live in the peace of the present. 

To stifle the cry of regret; 
The last, of mine is the symbol sad, 
A sigh for the joy my soul once had, 
A life that is blighted, a pow'r that is gone. 
In the deep Arctic night with no hope of the dawn. 

Just at the verge of manhood, 

My hopes were mingled with yours, 
Adown life's way a brief season, 


Our souls flowed between the same shores; 
And Hope turned each murmuring sigh into song 
As on the calm waters we glided along, 
The greater the trial, our faith was the greater, 
With never a storm but the sunshine seemed sweeter. 

But now we have come to the Delta, 

Where the ways of our lives must part; 
Shall no sigh echo the moaning 

Of this sad, di-c onsolate heart? 
Two souls that have met, loved, and parted for aye, 
Seek each through Lif-'s ocean a different way. 
Two hearts and two hopes that once beat together, 
Apart, try the fortune ot Time's dreary weather. 

Friends and lovers v/ill still smile their sweetest, 

And you by their smiles will be cheered, 
While I must spend half a lifetime 

In ruining Hope's temple I've reared; 
You will go through life with faith and trust, 
For your confidence never was shaken to dust, 
I must bide my time with a cynical doubt, 
Until life with its burdens has worn me out. 

But since I must, I shall speak it — 

Goodbye! say not, "forget," 
For memories of the bygone 

Will cling about me yet; 
As I sigh tor a voice that cannot be heard, 
For a tender glance, for a loving word, 
.As I seek for a solace that cannot be found, 
'Xhp' the world in its wideness I wander around. 

J. H. P,, '04. 




"Well, my sou, what can I do for 3'ou?" asked Gen. Wilbert 
Nolan, laying down his paper and leaning back in his chair, 
with the deliberation of a New England judge. 

General Nolan came to this country iu 1756, from England, 
and settled near Charlotte, North Carolina. He was considered 
the wealthiest and most prosperous farmer in his section of the 
country. He was a lov^er of good literature, and read regularly 
for two or three hours every morning, with the understanding 
that he was not to be disturbed. For this reason he was very 
greatly surprised at the unexpected appearance of his sou, John, 
who had nevet before approached him during his morning 

In reply to his father, johu said: 

"I have just learned through a reliable source that war will 
be declared against England within the next three months; and 
I have decided to hasten North, and enlist for the cause of Lib- 
erty. — with your consent"? 

Without a moment's hesitation, his father gave him per- 
mission to do what he considered his duty. 


The Lawrence home was situated about twelve miles north- 
west of Boston. There were four membe-s of the family: 
father, mother, and two children. Nellie, who was a beautiful 
and accomplished girl of seventeen, and Fred, a 3 ear and a half 
her junior, who possessed all of the characteristics of a uoble 
American youth of the latter half of the eighteenth century. 
Though a farmer, Judge Lawrence was required to spend two 
months of every year performing his duty in Boston as a tax 
collector for King George of England. 

On the first of June, in the year of the beginning of this 
story, Judge Lawrence, accompanied bj' his son and an old 


negro slave, went to Boston, where he expected to remain a 
isioath, at least. 

After eating dinner and bidding good-bye to his father, 
Fred, accompanied by the old slave, started homeward. When 
he had traveled several miles, his horse suddenly leaped to one 
side and stood trembling violently with pricked ears, and eyes 
intently fixed upon something on the opposite side of the road. 
Fred soon saw at what he was frightened. A few yards to the 
left there lay a young man with deathlike stfUness and pallor, 
and covered with blood; while a few feet further a horse was 
grazing, with dangling bridle and blood-sprinkled saddle. 

On examination he found that the unfortunate man was 
wounded in the left leg, and on the head; and that he was 
unable to speak. Having dressed his wounds the best he could, 
with the aid of the old negro, he placed him on his horse, and 
rode home holding him in the saddle. 

Mrs. Lawrence and Nellie were greatly excited., and asked 
many questions, almost all of which Fred was not prepared to 

"He certainly has the appearance of a gentleman," said 
Nellie, in her excitement. 

'*We will know all about him in a few minutes, I hope," 
said Fred; "but first, we must care for his wounds, and give him 
something to strengthen bim so he can talk." 

Alter several hours of hard and willing toil on the part of 
all three, the stranger being able to speak, told them of him- 
self : 

"I left home about three weeks ago for Boston. This 
evening, near some cross-roads, I rode into a small creek to 
water my horse; and while he was drinking, I was startled by 
the .pnexpectea command, ' Surrender or die,' which came from 
a near-by thicket. Not having accomplished the object of my 
long and lonely journey, not wishing to be branded a coward, 
and especially not wishing either to 'surrender or die,' I spurred 
Charlie, who started at full gallop up the opposite bank; but 
before he had cleared the dank ground there came a volley of 
shots which knocked me from my saddle, half stunned^ and 


severely wounded in my left leg. Though suffering intensely, 
I recognized their leader as one on whom I had 'turned the 
table,' in a scheme to publicly shame me at school in England. 
He came forward, and ransacked my saddle-bags. I could 
scarcely utter a word; but when I saw him take a little gold 
watch and chain which my little sister gave me before leaving 
home, I asked him to leave it. Hearing me, he wheeled around 
and struck me on the head with the butt of his pistol." 


John's wounds healed wonderfully fast during the next 
three weeks. During this time he had become a brother to 
Fred and Nellie Lawrence, who tried to make his unfortunate 
accident as easy to bear as possible. They daily entertained 
him by talking to him. 

One day, in the fourth week after his misfortune, their con- 
versation was abruptlj' ended b}' the appearance of a man who 
rushed in unannounced, but on seeing John, said in an imperious 
voice, pointing towards Nellie: 

"Come here a minute. I want to speak to you," 
She followed him across the hall; he began by exclaiming: 
"So this is what you are up to! sheltering a cowardly rebel 
in your father's absence! Well, I am going to Boston — get sol- 
diers — return — take him — and when he gets well, take pleasure 
in killing him!" 

Before he had finished, she had sunk into a chair, unable to 
speak a word in opposition to him, so completely overcome was 
she with fear. 
***** **♦* 

When Nellie left both Fred and John remained silent a few 
minutes. Then John asked — though he already recognized him 
as the man by whom he had been waylaid — ''who is that man?" 

"His name, answered Fred, "is Christopher Brussett, the 
man who is to marry Nellie, and — " 

"What"! exclaimed John, "that man to marry your sister! 
I don't see how any girl could love such a scoundrel." 

"She don't love him," said Fred, "but it is due to some 


pledge between our father and his, the breaking of which would 
cost father dearly. So she — " 

"Hush! here she comes now." 

The fact was, that as soon as Nellie had composed herself, 
she started to John's room to warn him to get away before Brus- 
sett returned. 

"No," said John, when she had told of Brussett's threats, 
"I won't endanger you by fleeing. I must see Sir Christopher 
before I leave." 

Fred and his sister had already told John that they were for 
Liberty, though their father was a Tory. Therefore they prom- 
ised to have his horse ready for him in case of an emergency. 

Boston was beseiged at this time, but Brussett had access. 
Having secured a troop of cavalrj^ he returned about dark, 
accompanied by Judge Lawrence, who had not been home since 
Nolan was shot. 

He and the Judge went straight to the wounded man's 
room, expecting to find him helpless. But lo! when they saw 
him standing and alone, Brussett was dumbfounded. 

John, slowly approaching him, said in a cool voice: 

"You coward! Failing in your other attempt, you have 
come to murder me again. There, take that, until we meet 
under fairer and more suitable circumstances!" and he stiuck 
him a blow that knocked him sprawling on the floor, insensible. 

He then ran out of the door, leaped into the saddle, jumped 
the fence, and escaped the lazy soldiers whom he had left oa 
guard, and in a few hours rode into General Washington's 

Brussett, having recovered somewhat and seeing Nellie enter 
the room, turned to her with the question: 

"Do you believe me guilty"? 

"Until you prove him otherwise than a genlleman, I do," 
and left the presence of the villain whom she detested. 

The next morning Brussett left to find and kill John Nolan, 
having first given a written statement to Judge Lawrence to 
release Nellie from marrying him, if he did not return in two 
weeks after the war. 



A little more than three years after the incidents of the 
last chapter, during the siege of Yorktown, General Washing- 
ton, spying some very large cannon on a small hill near the 
enemies' chief breastwork, called for volunteers to take them. 

Capt. John Nolan and his company of brave and daring 
men offered their services. Going around two or three miles, 
they came up behind thejiill, where they found about a hun- 
dred soldiers lounging around, gambling. He gave his men 
the order to charge, which they obeyed wi*h alacrity. 

Captain Nolan did not pursue; and one of the British did 
not flee. That was Sir Christopher Brussett, who, with a 
most confident air, advanced on his enemy. 

Now the opportunity! thought Brussett. 

When they were a few steps apart he made a motion to John 
that he would surrender; and of course John started to return his 
sword to its scabbard. At this motion Brussett struck at John 
with deadly strokes, but he evaded them. They fought for sev- 
eral minutes. Brussett, being too confident, Nolan knocked his 
sword from his hand, and pinioned him to the ground* 

"You dirty coward! Only on three conditions will I give 
you your life: Return my watch, write a letter of apology to 
Miss Lawrence, and leave this country as soon as the first ship 
sails. ' ' 

Brussett remained silent. 

"If you do not answer by the time I count three, you will 
travel to the lower world. One — two — " said John, but before 
he had finished Brussett shrieked: 

"I consent." 

That was the last John saw of Sir Christopher Brussett. 

In the battle before the surrender of Yorktown, Captain 
Nolan received three or four bullet wounds, which left him on 
the battle-field. His name appeared on all the bulletins as 
among the dead. 



About three months after the surrender, Fred and Nellie 
Laurence sat on their front verander, engaged in earnest con- 

"Sister" asked Fred, "have I ever told you why Sir 
Christopher has not been here since the war"? 

"No," said Nsllie. 

He then told her all about the encounter between John 
and Sir Christopher. The explanation seemed to make her 
happy and her eyes filled with tears of joy. 

At this juncture a lone horseman rode up the broad drive- 
way. It was John Nolan; and the sister and brother ran to 
meet him, exclaiming together: 

"We thought you were dead, but thank Heaven you are 

"That report came near being true", said John, but I 
managed to pull through in spite of several bullet holes". 

After some time had been spent in congratulations, expla- 
nations and the like, Fred went to attend to Johns horse. 

As soon as he was gone, John drew his chair closer to 
Nellie and said: 

"Nellie, I have lived through fire and blood and horrors 
more awful than death, that I might come back to you, and tell 
you that I love you. When I became conscious in Fred's room, 
after those hours of horrible delirium, and saw you, I knew 
that I should live to love you, when I learned that that villiaa 
intended to force you to marry him, I vowed that my hands 
should drive him from you, and save you from a life more 
horrible than death. When I was wounded on the battle-field 
and left alone to die, it was my love for you that gave me pow- 
er over death. I love you, I love you. Will you be my little 

Nellie lifted up her bright eyes filled with happy tears to 
him and said, "I am glad you love me, John, because I love 



Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps Colleg-e 

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Mr. Horwill, in the September issue of the 
"A NATIONAL ^//a;;//^ /J/(?;///^/)/ has entered a plea for "A 
STANDARD National Standard in Higher Education." 
IN HIGHER He begins his article with these two contra- 
EDUCATION." dictory, yet suggestive, sentences. "It is 
generally agreed that there are too many uni- 
versities in America. That is the reason why one more is ur- 
gently needed." 'We understand the paradox when the author 
reminds us that the greater the number of banks in a city the 
more necessary is a clearing house. And that it is the paucity 
not the multiplicity of magazines that has brought iuto exis- 
tence the Revieiv of Reviews. 

The number of degree giving institutions has increased so 
greatly that the face that a is an k.. B. has little signii- 
cance as to his intellectual attainment. We are constantly 
coming into contact with graduates, and the fact that they have 
their degrees means little or nothing to us, because we do net 
know what the degree is worth. 

On the other hand, there are colleges which have become 
famous in various ways; perhaps, from the fact that they have 


been backed by fabulous endowment funds; posibly, because 
they are state institutions, or it may be that the excellence of 
their work, some time in the past, has given them such promi- 
cence. A degree from such institutions overrate the intellec- 
tual attainment of the graduates and therefore gives them a 
prominence that he does not merit, and the people an educa- 
tional leader which is unworthy of them. So we readily see how 
it is that the statement that a man is an A. B. graduate gives 
little indication of his intellectual worth. 

Mr. Horwill would "establish a common standard in educa- 
tion, by reference to which it would be possible to fix the acad- 
emic positions of individual students," whether they come from 
the most famous university, the least known college, or the 
humblest private study. He proposes plans by means of which 
a thorough examination is given to applicants for degrees. The 
plan guarantees justice, and, since there would be no honorary 
degrees, individual educational attainment alone would be re- 
warded. The decree would therefore be a sure indicator of in- 
tellectual worth. 

The author claims the following advantages for the scheme: 
(i.) It would provide a new opportunity for ambitious 
youths of narrow means. Many young men who would pursue 
a scholarly course at home are disheartened by the fact that they 
are placed at such disadvantage in the struggle with those who 
have the oft-times money-bought recommendation of a college 
university — the degree. 

(2.) It would furnish an intelligent standard of proficiency 
in the case of graduates asking posts as teachers. This occurs 
to me to be the greatest advantage of the plan. In the United 
States there are very few institutions whose diplomas are a guar- 
antee of intellectual worth. As a consequence, there is no safe 
means of filling positions even though the power of appoint- 
'ment chances to rest with those who would waive every consid- 
eration save the interests of the people, which is alas! too sel- 

(3) It would give small colleges a chance. Basing the appoint- 


ments on individual worth and not the reputation-worth of a pre- 
tentious college or university, the colleges which deserve pro- 
motion would be promoted through the awardal of posts of trust 
to their graduates. 

(4.) Within a few j-ears it would sensibly raise the stan, 
dard of colleges which have hitherto been content with low aims 
and still lower performances. 

The fact that not only all national educational appointments 
would be made with reference to this standard, but that public 
opinion in general would base its estimate on the educational 
world in reference to it, would force practically every college to 
pass through this purgatory. Some would no doubt be consum- 
ed bj' the purifying fires, but as Carlyle has said, "that which 
is incombustible will not burn." 

Byron said that his school mates, after they 
WHAT WE ARE, had finished their college course, went about 

NOT WHAT WE with learned faces, awe-inspiring mien, 

SEEM TO BE, wearing monstious masks, of lawyers, doc- 

tors, bankers, parsons, and the like. 
From my astonished childhood to my maturer years, which 
have brought with them scanty assurance, I have wondered at 
the pomp and magnificence of artificial society. Since the mys- 
tical light of hero-worshiping boyhood has given place to the 
light of sane judgement, I want to know why it is that people 
try to fool each other. You can fool little boys and confiding 
girls, but you can't fool sensible men and women. For the man 
knows either because he makes one of the masquerade partj', that 
is to saj' he is a hypocrit like yourself, or else because he is a 
good man and has good eyes and therefore knows a false-face 
when he sees it. You can't fool the modern society woman, for 
she's up to all your tricks. You can't fool a real lady, because 
she's not a fool. So I say the wonder is that people still go to 
so much trouble. Why! just lots of times men speak to me as if 
I would believe their souls great because of the accent they give 
their words; they look learned and pompous as if they would 


make me feel their colossal powers. Perhaps you too have been 
done this way, or mayb^ even worse; you may have had the fiae 
spun net of social weavings thrown about you by one of societies 
most artificial productions of the femenine type. 

What I would like, and doubtless you would too, or you 
would not be reading this, for we would not be congenial, is for 
us to lay aside our masks, to break up this mask party, to cast 
aside the artificial veil that is between us, and to know each 
other as we in ourselves really are. 

I have seen people who were interested in big things alone. 
In fact, I believe most people are interested in big things. They 
are grieved near unto death to learn of the decease of a senator, 
and are unmoved at the death of a dirty street waif. They prick 
their ears with eager interest for the joke of a big man, and pass 
with stern indifference the ragged boy who has his story of pa- 
thos. Fathers there are, who would "blow in" a months earrt- 
ings, or better gettings, to sport on in pomp the social lord, and 
yet will draw the skin of their faces, which has been laugh-lines 
to the pompous visitor, into plow-lines or birch switches for a 
pleasure-hungry boy. 

I know that we should look through social distinctions and 
official decorations at the heart beneath, but how much better 
we could see if there were no decorations and artificial distinct- 

I would have us interested in human life, its joys, its hopes, 
and its fears. I believe the man who feels is th- educated, the 
refined man, and not the man who knows. I knovT it is the aiai 
of a great number of parents, who send their sous and daughters 
to college, to secure for them a higher station in life. They 
would have them superior to other people. They would pur- 
chase them a high seat from which they may look down upon a 
struggling world. I hold that the true aim of education is not 
so much to know as to feel, that the truly educated man is not 
he who raises himself above his fellows by superior mental force, 
but is fitted to mingle with them, to enter into their lives, to 
turn the rich red blood of his knowledge into the dry veins of 
a society thirsting for life and sympathy. It does not matt«r 


how much you know, if you do not care for me it will do me no 
good, unless it be an accidental good, and an accidental good ts 
no credit of yours. You might, with equal justness, claim of 
the Almighty, credit for the life-perserving bread that the starv- 
ing beggar purchased with the coin you hurled at him to get him 
out of j'our passage way. 

I know that it should be the aim of every father to guaran- 
tee a loftier, a happier position to his son than he himself has 
had; that each generation should inherit advantages from the 
past generation. But this idea of social elevation, of the mak- 
ing of men who will rule by mental force, is sickening, is abso- 
lutely disgusting. I had rather be a plow boy and grieve to turn 
a daisy beneath the heavy clod, than to wield the scepter of 
world power, and be unable to feel the pains, to enjoy the hap- 
piness, to enter into the hopes, that fill the lives, and sanctify the 
passing of the lowliest of this life. 

I speak reverently when I say that my faith is in the Christ 
who wept at the grave of Lazarus, not iu the Christ at whose 
command the fig tree withered, and the water turned to wine; in. 
the Christ of universal feeling, not the Christ of universal power. 
I want to spend this life, as I do eternity, not with those who 
know most, bat with those who feel most. 



In reading over the various exchanges that have come to 
our desk we are very favorably impressed with the progress that 
theyjare making in college journalism. There seems to be a spirit 
of growth and progress that tends to make each issue an im- 
provement on the one preceding. Especially is this to be no- 
ticed in the quality of the stories with which man}' of our col- 
lege magazines abound. The style and treatment which char- 
acterize most of the fiction in college periodicals are certainly 


improving. The institution of prize contests, we are inclined to 
tbink, has had a a great deal to do with it by furnishing the 
editors with a larger supply from which to draw. Some ex- 
change editors, we have noted, seem to think that stories should 
bave no place in college journalism. On the contrary, we think 
interesting and imaginative stories play a very important 
part bv contributing to the interest and attractiveness of a col- 
lege paper. There is a large amount of the deep philosophy of 
life that can be imparted more vividly and to a greater advantage 
by being imbued with sentiment and imaginative beauty than if 
condensed into an essay or sermon, which for most readers 
would only furnish very dull and lifeless reading. Besides, a 
constructive imagination is, of all talents, the most necessary to 
EH all-round success. Then why should we discourge the story 
writers in cultivating this great power or faculty of the mind? 

Another step toward improvement, we have noticed, is the 
subordination of the "local department," and the giving of 
more attention to the exchang'i department. This should be 
looked upon as one of the most important parts, and care should 
be used to make it interesting and instructive. It is with much 
regret that we have observed that some magazines, most note- 
worthy in other respects, pay scarcely any attenti ra to this 
department at all, but content themselves with merely acknowl- 
edging the receipt of the "exchanges," or do not mention them 
at all. 

The poetry has been of an unusual good grade in meter 
and sentiment. But there feems to be a great scarcity of it in 
some of our best exchanges. Such institutions should import 
some poets by all means; or else stimulate the latent poetry in 
the students by offering a prize for the best poem. 

» * » 

We do not hesitate to pronounce the Emory Phoenix as 
being one of the best and most interesting of our exchanges. 
Many other magazines might well use it as a model. The three 
stories, "The Influence of the College," "What's in a Name," 
and "She Did not Know," are written in a charming style, and 
hold the interest throughout. The plots of these are \inique and 


the threads of the narrative are well woven together. "Joel 
Chandler Harris, the Writer," is an appreciative sketch of the 
life of the author of "Uncle Remus," which, we feel sure, will 
be read and enjoyed by all the host of admirers of our great 
"Master of dialect." The quality of the other articles shows the 
same literary knowledge and good taste. We are glad to note 
the great success that is being made of the exchange depart- 
ment. The comments and suggestions show much judgment 
and insight in their character, so we do not doubt but that this 
department is in good hands. "Christ is Born" and the "Rev- 
eries of Senior" are praiseworthy efforts at verse. Taken as ^ 
whole the Phoenix reflects much honor on its able staff as well 

its institution. 

# * * 

We are just in receipt of the Universiiy of Mississippi Rfag- 
Magazine for the first time this session. The Magazine is a 
highly creditable publication and reflects much honor on its 
corps of editors as well as upon its honored institution. The 
quality and arrangement of its matter is good. This issue (De- 
cember) contains many intelligent and interesting articles. 
"The Kingship of the mind" is a strongly written essay and 
one that evidences a wide range of information and scholarship. 
"Progress through Revolution" is entertaining and instructive 
throughout. In it the writer very fittingly shows that evolution 
of society has been preceded and facilitated by revolution when 
society had outgrown its old insiitutions. "Reminiscences" 
bids fair to furnish some interesting reading. "Ballade of the 
Round Table" is a poem worthy of complimentarv mention. 
The exchange and editorial departments are well conducted and 
instructive as well as interesting. 

« * « 

A most interesting and enjoyable exchange is the Crimson 
and Gold. The arrangement of the quality of its matter are the 
the very best and deserve much praise. "The Star" and "A 
night at Bethlehem" are written in pleasing style, and form 
very appropriate reading for an Xmas issue. "Shakespeare's 
Art of Contrast, as shown on the Night of the Portents" is espec- 


ially worthy of commendation. It is an essay of great clearness 
and beauty. The editorialfs are varied and newsy. We con- 
gratulate its enterprising staff on getting up so creditable a mag- 

» « » 

We are glad to number among our exchanges the Cap and 
Gown of Tuscaloosa, Ala.,. It comes to us in a neat and atract- 

•jve cover, but most of its articles are purely local in character. 
The essay on "Character," while very much condensed, is very 
well treated and contains some very fine sentiments. It reflects 
in a creditable manner the life and custom of its institution. We 

expect more fiction and stories in its next issue. 

* # « 

The College Reflector makes a very neat appearance and has 
much good reading matter in it. The chief fault we find with 
it is that it is most too meagre. What it needs is some clever 
scholarly essays and a story or two. In arrangement there has 
been much improvement — the quality was always good. The 
poem "The man Behind the Plow" is exceedingly good and 
expresses truthfully and well some of the truths that only too 
often escape our observation. The exchange department of this 
magazine is conducted in a very enterprising and instructive 
manner. Deserved praises are fittingly bestowed; and unfavor- 
able criticisms, if needed are not shunned. We commend the 

Ex. -man's spirit. 

* * ♦ 

The Converse Concept need not fear unfavorable comparison 
with any college magazine we have seen. It is neatly and 
tastily "gotten up" in every respect and presents a most intelli- 
gent and interesting table of contents. It constitutes a most 
flattering index to the high grade of intellectual training that is 
being given by its institution. The only complaint we have to 
make, is at the absence of verse. "The American Indian in 
l,iterature" is a short, but interesting account of the Redman's 
place in legend and song. It has made an attractive subject even 
more interesting and attractive. In reading the article on "wom- 
an's rights," though very chivalrous in our attitude towards 


the "fair sex," we acquiesced to all the writer said in regard to 
woman's intellectual rights, but as to her elligibility for the 
coarser and more commonplace duties of life, we demurred^ 
As to woman being "man's intelleci-ual equal," after having- 
read the Concept, we accept as a "self-evident" fact. The other- 
sketches and stories were very much enjoyed. The exchange, 
department is well edited and pays a silent compliment to its 
exchange editors, who can skillfully point out an error as weU_ 

gracefully bestow merited words of praise, 

« * * 

Since the last issue of the Collegian, in addition to those^ 
above mentioned, we beg to acknowledge the receipt of the 
following exchanges: 

1 he Klpha, Parker Purple, 1 he /effQrsotiian , SoiUkwesterji 
University Magazine, Hillmayi Lesbidelian, The Randolt>h- Macon 
Monthly, Hendrix College Mirror, Twentieth Ceyitury Taller, 
Emory and Henry Era, The Jonrjial, Ihe Revielle, Olive and 
Blue, Whitworth Clioyiian, Review a?id Bulletiri, Cap and Gown, 
Mississippi College Magazine, Deaf Mute Voice, Uaiversity of 
Arizona Monthly, Vox Weslyan. 



A squirrel hurried through the grass, 
A sparrow gossiped like a lass; 
The little minnows in the brook 
Were playing school;'a shady nook 
Showed me the tenants, like a glass. 

Under a shower of twinkling dew 
A dwarf-like toad sat peering through 
Minstrell of moisture, one who sings 
Love for the dew and cold, wet things- 
O quaint philosopher and true. 


A bee lay cradled in a leaf 

Of thirsting clover, "Life is brief," 

He mutteied to himself, and drank 

Deep of the honey, till he sank 

Among the ficwers, who called him thief? 

— Har'vard Monthly. 

Said a Cadet to his Juliet, 
"I'm like a ^hip at sea, 
Exams are near and much I fear 
That I shall busted be." 

«'0h, no," said she, "a shore I'll be, 
Come rest your journey o'er." 
Then silence fell and all was well, 
For the ship had hugged the shore. — Ex. 

Whatever troubles Adam had, 

No man could man could make him soar, 
B3' saying, when he told a jest, 

"I've heard that joke before." — Ex. 

Mary had a little lamp, 
A jealous lamp, no doubt, 

For when Mary's beaux went in. 
The little lamo went out. — Ex. 

"Falsehood buyeth falsehood only, 
"Truth must purchase truth." 


"Deep wisdom — swelled head — 
Brain fever — he's dead — 

A Senior." 
"False fair on — hope fled — 
Heart broken — he's dead — 

A Junior." 


"Went skating — 'tis said — 
Floor hit him — he's dead — 

A Sophomore." 
"Milk famine — not fed — 
Starvation — he's dead — 

A Freshman." — Ex. 


He stood where the maiden stood beside 

A beautiful, blushing rose, 
And he lovingly bent his head and sighed, 

And he buried his moth and nose 
Among the petals so sweet, so rare, 

That the fair maid's lips had pressd 
And a bumble bee that was resting there 

Proceeded to do the rest — Ex. 

God made the world and rested. God made man and rested. 
God made woman, and since then, neither God, man, nor tha 
devil has had any rest. --Ex. 

The Exchange Editor ma}' scratch on a pen 
'Till the ends of his fingers are sore, 

When some one is sure to remark, with a jest, 
"Ratf^! How stale! I've heard that before." 


Little Jack horner sat in a corner, 

Killing a stiff exam, 
By the help of a neighbor 
He avoided all labor, 

"What a student," he pondered, "I am. 



F, D. MELLEN, Editor. 

Mr. W. O. Tatum is manager of Tatum Lumber Co., 
Bonhomie Mississippi. 

Messrs. Allen Thompson and Clayton Potter, both of the 
class of '02, have opened a real estate office in this city. 

During the recent sessions of the Mississippi and North Mis- 
sissippi Conferences, the following appointments were made by 
Bishop Key: 

Mayorsville, H- P. Lewis Jr. ; Thomasville, W. A. Terry; 
Anding and Lintonia, H. B. Watkins; Simpson, H. T. Carley; 
Binsville, J. L. Red; Scranton, W. B. Jones; Oxford, J. R. 
Countess; Beauregard, J. J. Goden; Webb, J. T. Lewis; Itta 
Bena, W. L. Duren; Neshoba, L. H. Aliord; Washington, C. N. 
Guice; Hill House, L. W. Feider; S. S. Secretary R. P. Neblett. 

Mr. Morris Chambers '00, is director of Lumberton Electric 
plant, Lumberton, Miss. 

Mr. W. A. Wood is teaching school at Monterey, Miss. 

Dr. Sullivan in one of his class lectures recently remarked 
that the alumnus in his idle moments might do a vast work, a 
work beneficial not only to his Alma Mater but to the whole 
state. He called attention to the fact that if every man ever in 
attendance had, during his vacant hours, secured from his 
home-county specimens of the state from well-boreings for every 
five feet through fifty or sixty feet of the earths crust, perhaps 
specimens from every county of the state might have been col- 
lected, affording information most valuable. Such a collection 
would mean a comprehensive study of important geological fea- 
tures relative to the nature of the whole State. Such contribu- 
lions to the museum should be readily forthcoming, since idle 
moments are in every man's life, and such is the college man's 

Mr. E. B. Ricketts is an eletrical engineer in New York 


We recently made a very hurried review 0/ the vocations 
chosen by our alumni. As might have been expected the voca- 
tion most universally followed is that of law. Next in order was 
that of medicine. Not depreciating the professions in the leaLt, for 
we believe they are essentials to advanced society, we were 
sorry to note the relative scarcity of men engaged in the still 
more essential and fundamental pursuits — mechanics, scientific 
agriculture and the like. 

But there was in particular one other fact that attracted our 
attention. These latter pursuits are assuming a new vitality. 
While in the past among our Alumni the law had held unchall- 
enged sway, and in a manner so continues today, yet there is a 
perseptible departure from this old channel toward these more 
natural and necessary pursuits. Such a movement denotes 
health in our national life, and a due appreciation on the part of 
our young men for these most important industries. This move- 
ment was made even more manifest by the departure from for- 
mally selected vocations of several alumni, who had recognised 
the sterility of the professional fields. 


JOS. H. PENIX, Editor. 


The Middle States and New England, which have produced 
the main body of American literature, seem to have reached the 
height of their literary expression, and to be now either in a 
state of decadence, or at best of preparation for some future effort. 
Instead of the measure of spontaneity and vigor which charac- 
terized the productions of the "Knickerbocker School" and the 
renascent period of New England, we have now mostly the trea- 
tises, criticisms, and comments of learned scholars, and there is 
a marked scarcity of true literature of the higher order. 

On the other hand, the West has not, apparently, reached 
its full literary development. The literary history of a country 


or a section is, in many respects, parallel to that of its politics. 
Indeed, though ignorant of the social, religious, and goveraiuen- 
tal institutions of a people, one might still learn much of their 
character from a study of their literature, since this is greatly 
affected by all the above influences. The West is still compara- 
tively a new country, and the epithet "Wild," formerly applied 
to it, is still in some degree appropriate. Its settlements rose 
like magic from the influx of a population almost as varied as the 
nations of earth could afford, aud it is a great problem of our 
national politics to reconcile such differenc s of race, custom and 
nationality under one government. We are not surprised, 
then, that its literary productions are as yet scanty, and its liter- 
ary efforts undecided and unsteady. 

When we consider the South, however, we find a section 
not lacking in age, culture, nor homogeneity, yet nevertheless, 
singularly barren as regards its literature. Its whole history 
seems to justify the statement that it has been, throughout the 
past, doomed to a kind of unprogressive isolation. This has 
been due chiefly perhaps to its peculiar social institutions, aud 
indirectly to other conditions caused in turn by these. True, its 
educational advantages were for a long time limited, to say the 
least; but this can hardly be one of the principal causes of its un- 
productiveness. Because of the fertility of the soil and the pres- 
ence of a large body of slaves, the pursuit of the South was na- 
turally agriculture. Naturally, also, there was comparatively a 
small number of land owners, living on large estates, thus pre- 
venting population from gathering in considerable centers, and 
thus was missed that peculiar culture and alertness of intellect 
that would have resulted from a more universal socialness. Then, 
too, while considering the old institution of slavery from the 
standpoint of the present, this generation, both North and 
South, is likely to forget that long before it was abolished it had 
become one of the most serious problems that had ever demand- 
ed solution of any people, and that to the South especially, as 
being most intimately concerned, it was a pressing and ever- 
present question. To his master, the negro seemed then, as he 
has proved since, the most dangerous and helpless lower class 


tliat had ever come in contact with the Anglo-Saxon. Yet the 
conditions of soil and climate had thrust on us the burden and 
responsibility of a nation, and in assuming it, a factor had en- 
tered our social and political structure which, though danger- 
ous while it remained, would seemingly cause demolition if with- 
drawn. So the leading Southerners concentrated their minds on 
politics, and naturall}^ developed a conservative policy which 
tended to check national individuality. At the same time how- 
ever, this attention to governmental affairs produced a body of 
public men whose orations, though belonging only to a species 
oi literature, are reckoned as among the best ever produced in 
America or even the world, and Vv^hose statesmanship laid deep 
and well the foundation of the Republic. 

But the statements made by certain literary scholars that 
the insignificance of Southern writings is in any way due to its 
former social oligarchy, or to climatic differences, do not, in the 
light of the historv of universal literature, seem quite evident. 
Greece, that made models of literature and art for the ages to 
copy, had slavery and social aristocracy, yet to this very fact 
historians attribute the surpassing development of their aesthetic 
r.ature. Italy, too, is a southern country, yet while making laws 
for the world it helped to make its literature also. 

Lanier, the most representative of our Southern poets, be- 
lieved the true function of poetry to be far nearer to that of music 
than is generally held; and though his training and career was 
too short and imperfect to make his critical work or his theories 
cf aesthetics seem of importance to technical scholars, ^et this is 
a view w^hich has been largely in accord with the poetry of all 
southern peoples. Who knows then, but that in a near and 
more auspicious future this view may materialize here in our 
own Southland in a loftier poetic utterance than America has 
yet known? Poe, in a degree, carried out the same idea in his 
poetry. True, most scholars consider him as Southern by cour- 
tesv only, but he was infinitely more; he was Southern by the 
inalienable rights of nature and ancestry, and his character, 
with all its tragic height and depth and mystery, belongs pre- 
eminently to the South. 

The Paritan came seeking relig'ous and political liberty, 
but cramped himself by laws severer than those he had fled, and 
it required the mighty forces of Unitarianism and Transcenden- 
talism to strike off these more galling fetters of mind and spirit 
and free them to sing their fuller liberties. The West escaped 


this bondage, for its verv foundation was on more modern and 
more liberal ideas of civil and religious freedom. The South, 
we may justly say, has been influenced by conditions unfavor- 
able to the development of a distinct and spontaneous body of 
literature. Since the Civil War, its social and economic condi- 
tions have been too disturbed for anything, like final expression. 
But when we consider Southern character and temperament, 
and the place which sections of like climate and peoples of like 
temperament have so often held in the best literature of the 
world; when we think of the background of romance and field of 
fiction, certainly unsurpassed in America; then, when through 
the frequent harshness of Southern song we hear the overtones 
of a loftier harmony to which the poetic spirit of the Southland 
may some day become attuned, we may reasonably hope that 
our past writers did but herald a spirit that shall breathe a fuller 
life and beauty into the body of American letters. 


D. L. BINGHAM, Editor. 

The Holidays have become a thing of the past, and we are 
once more in our places. 

We Vv'ere sorry to find a few vacancies in some of the rcoois, 
when we returned for the new years work. Those who failed to 
return seem to have made the wrong kind of resolutions. 

Prof. Harrell, a former Millsaps student, and who is now 
occupying the chair of Physics and chemistry at Centenary Col- 
lege, conducted chapel exercises for us one morning daring the 
first of the month. 

Miss Kattie Redding of Crystal Springs, was the charming 
guest of her aunt, Miss Annie I,infield, the latter part of the hol- 

Boys, stick to those resolutions you made when you left 
home Xmas. 

We were glad to have H. T. Carley with us as he pa=;sed 
through on the way to his work. Mr. Carley is one of Millsaps 
boys of high ambition, as is evidenced by his completing his 
course at Vanderbilt University. 

Miss Jannie Millsaps, is now boarding with Prof. Hud lies- 
ton, as her aunt, Mrs. T. B. Holland, has moved to Vicksburg, 

Quite an interesting program was rendered by the two so- 
cieties on the iSth of this month. The orators for the occasion. 


were Messrs Heidelburg and Pittman. In the debate, Messrs 
Nobles and Easterling represented the affirmative, and Messrs 
Welch and Wasson the negative. The judges decided in favor 
of the aiSrraative. 

Wasn't it too bad that Belhaven was unable to come to the 
debate. When it began to rain Friday night there were tears 
seen in several of the boys eyes as large as goose eggs and as 
hard as hickory nuts. 

Pittman tried hard to write a speech that would appeal to 
Belhaven, and be succeeded admirably, but after al! the raia 
interfered, — such a pity. Better luck next time, "Pitt." 

Miss Mason, of Whitworth College, accompanied by one of 
her charming pupils. Miss Winnie McKee, spent the day with 
Dr. Hillman, while passing through Jackson. 

C. R. Carley visited ciub mates on the campus after the 

William Buchanan of Okolona, has withdrawn from school 
and is reading law under his brother, a prominent young lawyer 
of Woodville. 

Professor B. E. Young has been absent for the past few 
days to attend the marriage of his brother at Louisville. He re- 
turned to the college Wednesday afternoon. 

We are glad to have E. B. Cooper, who has been absent for 
the past two months on account of sickness, with us again. 

There has been some sickness at the domitory during the 
month, but we are glad to report most of the boys able to be ia 
school again. Guess they ate too man}^ sv^'eetmeats Christmas, 
old Sauta Claus should be more careful. 

Mr. H. Stuart Stevens of Hattiesburg, senior member of the 
law firm of Stevens & Stevens, was on the campus the other 

The many friends of W. N. Duncan, will be delighted ta 
know that he has about recovered from his recent spell of sick- 

Ex-Treasurer Carlisle attended the public debate Friday 
night. We always appreciate the interest shown by our promi- 
nent citizens. 

Miss Pearce sister of H. W. Pearce. is boarding on the cam- 
pus and studying Physics under Dr. SuUvian. 

We are sorry to learn that Mrs. Murrah has been quite un- 
well the past week. That she may have a speedy recovery is 
the earnest wish of us all. 


^a^^kson uea dE Coffee Co. 

313 West Capitol. St. PHONE 800 

Is the place to buy ^i^-ood Tea and Coffee. We 
handle every kind the world produces, and will sell 
you better goods for less money than any one in town. 
We make a Specialty of . . . 

Tea etjyd CoffGO 

and buy in quantities in a way we can sell better 
goods for less money. We also carry a full line of 
Spices, Extracts, Table Condiments, Rice, Sus:ar and 
Butter, and will sell 

Sugar & Butter eit Cost 

to all our customers of Tea and Coft'ee. Give us a 
trial and be convinced. We are here to stay. 

Iv, W. L,ong, 



m Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., DECEMBER, 1902. No. 3. ^ 


Inland about thirty miles from the eastern shore of the 
Mediterranean sea, on the plains of the province of El Kuds, 
and six miles south of the ruined city of el Kuds, lies the little 
village Beit Lahm. Standing upon the hills that surround the 
village, and looking away to the northeast, one may get a 
glympse of the city of er Riha, and letting the sight fall south, 
he sees the heavy blue waters of Bahr lyUt. Upon the moun- 
tain sides and in the depths of the green valleys ol this country, 
from July to autumn, patient shepherds guard their drowsy 
flocks by day and by night. There, the summer days are hot 
and long, and it is good when the sun has finished his course. 
At night tne same stars shine out in the deep blue of the skies 
that we see in our own country. In the north is the great 
dipper, the little dipper, and the bright individual stars. On the 
western horison, in the spring time, the seven stars rise near the 
path of the moon and take their silent way across. The lan- 
guage of the people and the call of the shepherds, if we were 
in that country, would be but gibberish to us. 

On our happy Christmas morning these hard names, strange 
landscapes, ruined cities, blue waters, and foreign people have 
little interest for you, gfealle. reader, till I tell you more about 

Nineteen hundred years ago the province of El Kuds was 
called Judaea the city of el Kuds Jerusalem, the ruined city of 
er Riha Jericoh; Bahr I^ut the Dead Sea and Beit Lahm was 
called Bethlehem. The hills and valleys were the same old 
hills and valleys, and doubtless the herds that pasture on them 
are the same stock and kind that pastured there so long ago. 
Instead of the strange people which keep watch over the flocks 


there now, the shepherds of the children of Judah the son of 
Jacob kept watch then. 

The Judaeans were a quiet humble people, living by their 
vineyards, farms, and herds. Jerusalem was the capital and 
pride of Judaea. It was a magnificent city, surrounded by mas- 
sive walls and natural barricades of high hills and deep valleys. 
In the southeast corner of the city was the beautiful hill of 
Zion, and high up on its crest was the holy place of worship, 
the temple. In it the descendants of I^evi were still priests, 
and every Judaean gathered once every year in the temple, and 
with the priests, worshiped and offered sacrifices, waiting for the 
hope that a great deliverer would come and free them from 

The priests, while they adhered strictly to forms of worship- 
ing by sacrifice and symbols, had come to occupy a very impor- 
tant and honorable place in the nation. It was a high honor to 
be a priest of Levi, and to administer in the temple, clad in the 
costly, gorgeous robes of the priesthood. They therefore looked 
for the coming of one who would free their land and make the 
Judaeans again a conquering nation, and place them, instead of 
the honored of Judaea, the honored among the great nations of 
earth. The inhabitants of Jerusalem were dissipated, proud, 
profligate people, reveling in drunkenness and wantonness. 
The men had long since lost their strength, courage, and endur- 
ance by their indolence and intemperance. The women were 
vain and frivolous. 

Out beneath the cool shade of the trees by day, and the 
sentinel watch of the stars by night, with the sweet perfumed 
breezes from the mountains in their nostrils, and the happy songs 
of the birds and murmuring of the brooks in their ears, the 
shepherds looked for a deliverer who would free them from 
rituals, forms, and customs, fill their souls with an everlasting 

Far away in some eastern country there lived a school of 
men who through prophecies and stars searched diligently for 

From away up in Galilee a distant son of David sought 


lodgement, one night, in the little city of Bethlehem, when it 
^as crowded with Roman tax-paj'ers. There being no place in 
the inns to comfort them they made their bed of a pallet of straw 
in a broad trough where the cattle fed. 

On that same night while the priests drank and waited in 
their pride, the people of Jerusalem danced and chambered. 
While the cattle lay sleeping on the plains and the birds were 
asleep in the trees, the magi followed the light of his prophesies 
and stars, and the shepherds lay sleeping in the starlight with 
the green sod as his mattress, the priests heard nothing but the 
voice of ambition, and the people heard nothing but the call of 
lust and passion. The cattle, and the birds dreamed only of green 
pastures and shady groves. But the wise men's star stood over 
the quiet city of Bethlehem, and the murmuring of the brooks 
and the voice of the winds crept into the shepherds' dreams. 
The murmuring grew like the seas breaking upon a thousand 
strands, and the voice of the winds took up the melody of the 
pipes, the horns, and organs of the temple. The sound of the 
winds and the brooks mixed and mingled into one great flood 
of melody, and as it flowed on it bore in its tide the voice and 
song of the angel dead. So full grew their dream that it awoke 
them. When they arose the flood of melody passed away in 
their souls, and all was silent and still. So full were they of the 
memory of the dream, and so impressed with its great joy that 
they wandered away to Bethlehem to find some one to whom 
to tell its meaning. 

That night, while the Galileans slept in the manger to them 
a babe was born. A simple thing it was, — a babe born in a 

Over the mean couch the wise men's star came and stood. 
To the stall the shepherd's dream led them. The magi saw the 
babe and poured out their gifts to a sacrifice, a priest and a king. 
The shepherds saw him and their dream was told. Their innermost 
soul was filled with light and they sang the songs of the redeemed. 
David's son, the noblest and the greatest, made his first bed 
in a manger, the lowest place of all the earth. 

Such is the simple birth of which millions of voices to-day 


sing, and hundreds of millions of flaming torches tonight pro- 

Happy Christmas reader, answer me: 

Why on that night did ambitious 

Priests, hope on for a great deliverer, 

And reveling Judaeans in the city fair 

Hear not the dream like the shepherds? 

Why were the sheep the kind, the birds 

In the fields so deaf to the choirs of heav'n? 

While the dark veil that shut the shepherds out 

From earth to heaven was riven, 

And the wise men found a place for their gifts 

To pour them out for ever more? 

A. S. Cameron — '03. 


For the past few years there has been a movement on foot 
in the State of Mississippi to separate the public school fund 
between the whites and blacks in proportion to the amount of 
taxes paid by each race. The movement at first received little 
attention, but, owing to the fact that there is in the South an 
element opposed to universal education, it has come to receive 
more consideration. 

This is an element which is still begrudging the freedom 
given the negro by the Emancipation Proclamation, and wishes 
to keep him in as near a condition of serfdom as possible. These 
men with the prejudice towards the negro, caused by the des- 
potic rule of the Carpet-bagger during the Reconstruction 
period, look with aversion and bitter hostility on any movement 
which tends towards his educational or industrial development. 
They argue that the white public schools are far from being in 
a state of perfect development, and that every dollar devoted to 
the education of the negroes is just that much withdrawn from the 
much-needed education of the whites. Aside from what they 


consider an unjust and unmerited burden from a financial stand- 
point, they point out with great emphasis that the education 
of the negro will destroy the results aimed at in the adoption 
of the amendment to the State Constitution, which places suff- 
rage on educational qualifications. It is claimed, therefore, that 
it will mean his return to political power. Hence, as a remedy 
for this so-called injustice to the white man and for what they 
consider will be the undoing of this amendment, it has been 
proposed that an amendment to the State Constitution be adopt- 
ed, providing that the amount of the school fund appropriated 
to the two races shall be in proportion to the amount of taxes 
paid by each. 

Even on the extravagant assumption that the proposed 
amendment would produce the best results economically, morally 
and industrially, is it practicable? By the decisions of the 
Supreme Court of the United States, it is clearly shown that it 
is their opinion that such legislation is irreconcilable with the 
Fourteenth Amendment to the United States Constitution. 
This declares that "no State shall make or enforce any law 
which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of 

the United States, nor deny to any person within 

its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws." In the case 
of Duncan v. Missouri in the 152nd United State Supreme 
Court Report, it is decided that special legislation is not obnox- 
ious to the last clause of the Fourteenth Amendment, if all 
persons subject to it are treated alike. The above proviso ettect- 
uually and plainly debars such legislation as has been proposed. 
The Supreme Court has also declared in the 175th United 
States Report in passing on the racial question, "All admit 
that the benefits and burdens of public taxation must be shared 
by citizens without discrimination against any class on account 
of their race; and that schools must be maintained for each race 
out of a common school fund, if maintained at all." A Court 
having made this decision, would undoubtedly declare such an 
amendment, as the one proposed, unconstitutional. Before the 
proposed law could be enacted, it would therefore be necessary to 
change the Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution of the 


United States, which could not be done without a two-thirds vote 
of Congress and a ratification of the same by the legislatures of 
three-fourths of the States, which is impracticable. 

If there were no constitutional objection to such a law as 
the one proposed, still it would be wholly unnecessary. The 
money appropriated to public education is not, and has not been 
equally divided between the two races. Nor would such dis- 
tribution be lair. The schools of each race are taught by teach- 
ers of its own color. Of course the white teachers are far 
superior to the colored ones in intellectiiallity and educational 
development. Under our present State law, our superintendents 
of education are vested with large discretion in fixing the salaries 
of teachers within mininum and maxinum limitations. By one of 
the fundamental principles of economic law, better service is al- 
ways rewarded by better pay. According to a statement of our 
present State Superintendent of Kducation, only 42 per cent of 
the educable children of this State are white, and yet they re- 
ceive 79 per cent of the school fund, or about five times as much 
as the segroes. The average pay of the white teacher in the 
public schools is forty dollars; that of the negro teacher fourteen 
dollars. If the people of Mississippi should ever become so in- 
fluenced by the implacable hatred and undying prejudice, which 
is manifested so strongly in the South towards the negro, as 
to further demand a share of the mere pittance that is now given 
him, it would not be necessary even then to adopt the proposed 
amendment. The laws of the State could be so amended as to 
give the county superintendents s*:ill greater discretion in fixing 
the salaries of teachers. As these superintendents are all 
white men, they could thus fix the salaries of the negro teachers 
even smaller than they now are. 

It is only a question of time when a large number of 
negroes will inevitably return to the polls. Repulsive as the 
thought may be, nevertheless it is worthy of consideration. From 
education we are now giving them they are obtaining those 
qualifications which give them a right to vote. When the 
number of negroes with these qualifications becomes sufficiently 
great, they will exercise this right which they will inevitably 


natural inferiority of the race, intellectually and morally, the 
negroes will never become a dominant political factor in the 
State. Is it not infinitely better to contend with an educated 
negro minority, than to cause such unfavorable legislation as 
will give ;'suffrage to every negro man in the State, thereby in- 
creasing ten-fold the dangers of negro domination, and causing 
the Black Peril of the South to gain new terrors? 

The moment we strike a blow against the education of 
negroes, we uproot the foundation of our whole public school 
system. Whenever public education of the negroes is no long- 
er aided by the whites, immediately the rich will clamor that it 
is not right for them to educate the children of the poor whites, 
thus paving the way towards anarchy in public education. To 
take away education from the negro is a step towards despotism; 
and the despot is no respecter of persons. If the poor white 
man yields to the appeal of the imperialistic capitalist to his 
prejudice to bind the negro, and keep him bound, then, after 
he himself is caught in the meshes and cries for help, the 
snarer will mock. 

The true theory is, that education-— the development of 
power — enables the individual, of whatever vocation, to grapple 
more successfuly with the problems of life. We daily hear 
demand. So long as the Southern whites provide school facil- 
ities for the race whose illiteracy they disfranchise, just so long 
may our legislation, basing su%age on educational qualifica- 
tion, pass unassailed by the Supreme Court of the United States. 
But if this violent and prejudiced element should ever succeed in 
removing the educational facilities for the negro, it would be 
considered as having a direct bearing on our educational quali- 
fications for suffrage, and a proof too striking to be longer 
disregarded of an intention to violate the Fifteenth Amendment 
to the Constitution. Who cannot see that this agitation may 
cause such unfavorable action hy the Supreme Court as will 
render null and void our legislation placing suffrage on an ed- 
ucational basis, acd thus breakdown the structure so painfully 
wrought out? Under the present system, the number of negro 
voters will always be limited. Owing to this fact, and to the 


hat education of the negro serves to encourage aspirations that 
cannot be gratified. Ever since the embryonic state of public 
education, this theory has been used as an argument against 
educating the poor whites. Intellectual training may spoil 
some negroes, as it does some whites. We often see men, with 
the training afforded by the best universities of the country, 
leave the halls of learning pure idealists and theorists, who 
are totally unable to win back the money expended by their 
fathers for this training. But what man will declare that ed- 
ucation brings disasterous results to the white race as a whole? 
Compare the negro as he is to day, after over three decades of 
educational training, with the negro at the close of the Civil 
war when he was totally illiterate, and you will find that he 
has made tremendous strides in development, even in the face 
of the prejudice and enmity of the white man, Then why take 
away those facilities by means of which he is obtaining this 
development? Do we fear that he will become our successful 
competitor in life? If with equal oportunities we cannot sur- 
pass the negroes, then we belie our boast that we are their 
natural superiors. 

The proposed law is inexpedient, because it would widen 
the breach already separating the two races, and would tend to 
aggravate the race problem. If, in the age of prosperity, we 
abandon the policy, which was maintained while the black 
cloud of adversity was overhanging us, we break the strongest 
tie by which we may properly guide and control the negro. 
Under the present system, it is within our power to adapt the 
negro's education to his needs, and to select the worthiest and 
most competent black men to influence the principles of the 
young negroes and train them in the paths they should follow. 
But the moment we withdraw assistance from the negro 
schools, we will lose control over them. The negro will 
recognize the fact that the white man has no interest in him, 
except how he may best utilize him. He will see that the white 
man's purpose is to keep him in ignorance and poverty, and 
hold him in a state of absolute subjection. Consequently, it 
would stir up such hatred between the two races as has never 


existed before. If ever we should withdraw our aid from negro 
schools, not only would we lose all control of them, but they 
would fall into the hands of partisan politicians, who would 
make them instruments of strife and disorder. They would 
stand bewildered — the subjects of shameless demagoguery and 
base deceit. These leaders would teach the negroes that the 
white man is their foe, and that whatever progress they make 
must be in the face of his indefatigable opposition and never- 
ending hatred and prejudice. The disastrous effects that would 
follow the rearing of a generation in such an atmosphere are 
incalculable. It is then that there would appear that "awful 
phantom in whose crimson shadow we would behold the dan- 
gers of a race conflict." 

Ignorance, without regard to race or condition, is the 
enemy of the State and of civilization. It is, like crime, the 
enemy of all the people, and must be suppressed because it 
engenders crime. Besides, ignorance and uncleanliness are 
inseparable companions. It is a fact well known, that an 
educated negro is a clean negro. We have a multitude of 
negroes seeking a higher life. They want clean bodies, clean 
homes, and better advantages. Shall we take away those facili- 
ties by which they may obtain these things of inestimable value, 
and, shutting them out from the realm of knowledge, thus 
abandon them to ignorance, immorality, and the tender mercies 
of the demagogue? Take away their educational facilities and 
the protecting arm of the white man, and "they will sink like 
an iron to the bottomless pit of ignorance and wretchedness." 

In the words of an eminent Democratic leader, "It would 
not be right, it would be unworthy a strong Christian people to 
withhold the light from this weak and needy race." To raise 
the negro from ignorance to enlightenment, from semi-barbarism 
to civilization, is a debt of honor and humanity we owe him and 
the world. Destroy all prejudice, give him fair and favorable 
conditions, and let him work out, unhampered, his destiny 
among us. 

Harvey B. Heidelberg, '03. 



Dark and threatening financial clouds were gathering over 
the time-honored and trustworthy firm of Richard Ross and Co., 
and they seemed to be settling on the head of Richard Ross Jr. 
as he walked the floor of his comfortable if not luxurious batch- 
elor flat. He looked at his watch and listened for the elevator, 
for he was expecting Robert Hansley, the second member of 
the firm, who was an hour over due. He walked to the window, 
looked out and shivered as the wind dashed against the case- 
ment and an occasional rain drop spattered against the pane. 
Even the cheerful crackle of the fire in the grate failed to keep 
out the surrounding gloom. Presently the door opened and 
Robert entered. 

"Sorry to have kept you waiting Dick. The train was 
late. They are having rough weather up the country. It does 
a fellow good to get into this cozy den of yours. Come, cheer 
up! You look as if the last potato was out of the barrel. 
Have a cigar. It is not natural for you to look down in the 

"I was just thinking of to-night five years ago, when the 
responsibilities of a great business that our fathers had built, 
were shifted to our shoulders, and such a pretty mess as we have 
run it into!" 

"Now Dick, dont be hard on yourself. I acknowledge 
that I have made a botch of my part of it; but you know that 
you are looked upon as one of the best business men in the 
city. This is just a misfortune that could not be helped. 
These panics will come, you know." 

"Well, what success did you hava to day?" asked Dick. 

"None; everything seems going against us. He would 
not release us from our contract, or give us an extention of 

"And that means that the firm of Ross and Co., goes to 
smash tomorrow," said Dick. 

"Well, now that rests with you wheather it does or not," 


replied Robert. 

"What do you mean, Bob?" 

"Now, Dick, I have done all that I can to save the firm. 
Now, I have a plan for you to work, and it is a sure plan too; 
will you do it?" 

"It depends on what the plan is. I am willing to do any 
thing to save us, you know; that is, anything fair and honor- 
able," said Dick. 

" 'Anything is fair in love and war,' I think I heard you say 

"Yes, I believe you did." 

"Well, my plan is going to work according to your own 
philosophy. ' ' 

"State your scheme. This is no time for trifling." Said 
Dick, growing impatient. 

"It is just this: In the Second National Bank, of this city, 
there are bonds and securities to the amount of a hundred 
thousand dollars, placed there subject to your order. Now 
during this financial strain that is on the country, if it becomes 
known that this firm has a hundred thousand dollars, cold cash, 
to back it, why, our fortunes would be made, Dick! We 
would soon be millionaires. A hundred thousand man is equal 
to four hundred thousand! The only reason that I couldn't 
get an extention on that contract is, owing to the present 
general financial strain, Wright and Co. is begining to take 
nervous chills. Why if I had a cool hundred thousand 
to shake in their faces an extension would be no trouble. And 
credit! why, we would have all the credit we needed. Now 
you understand the plan, don't you?" said Robert, growing 

"Yes, and it sounds very plausible; but. Bob, do you for 
one moment entertain the idea, that I would take my sister's 
money, that was committed to my care by a dying father, and I 
her sole protector in the woild? Do you suppose that I would 
risk her money, maybe lose it, to get a little gold for myself ? 
After our long years of association, do you not think better 
of me? I am surprised that you should entertain such an 


idea," said Dick in a firm voice. 

Robert knew that he was playing a desperate game, and 
that he was playing his last card, so he pushed the matter 

"Now, Dick, don't lose your head. I am not asking you to 
steal anything, or lose any money. In all probability we will 
not have to use the money at all. If we do, it will only be a 
matter of a few weeks before it can be replaced. All I want is 
to let those fellows know that we've got it." 

"Bob, it is a violation of my principle and the principle of 
fair and honest dealing upon which our fathers built this 

"Principle be hanged! Are you going to let a reliable firm 
of a quarter million capital go to smash on account of a little 
principle?" said Bob. 

"Now, Bob, we can't do business that way. We have a 
future to look to. If we attain success in this manner.we would 
pay too dear for it." 

"You've preached honor/and principle^to me all along. I 
acknowledge that it is a very good thing; but every thing can 
be carried too far. In a time of crisis, a man's principle should 
suit his needs." 

"That is just what principle is for, to hold a man in the 
time of a crisis; if he had no principle he would be tossed about 
by every little gust," said Dick. 

Robert saw that it was useless to argue with Dick on this 
point, so he changed his tactics. 

"Now, Dick, there is Eva Hillman, the most beautiful and 
attractive girl in the city, to whom you expect to be married 
some day. You have won her over the most prominent young 
men of the city. You know what an influence money has over 
her father. Now, if you fail, it is all over with you and her. 
Come man, use the money. 'All things are fair in love and war,' 
you know," said Robert. And he saw the expression on Rich- 
ard's face change. 

"My honor shall never be compromised. There is no use 
for you to argue with me, unless you can devise some honorable 


plan," said Dick. 

"There is no other, I'll leave you to think about it. I'll 
ask for your final decision at eight in the morning," said Rob- 
ert as he left the room. 

lycft alone, Richard began walking the floor. He could 
stand and see his money go. But lose Eva with it? He would 
rather lose his life. He believed that she would be triie, but 
her father, under the present circumstances, he knew would 
never yield. Here he was going down for the need of a little 
money; and there was a hundred thousand within his reach. 
There was his sister, I^ouise, at Vassar, if she knew that he 
wanted the money it would be his. Tell her, never! 

The morning broke dark and heavy, and as Richard went 
to the office the gloom seemed to envelop his very soul. He 
was little prepared for the stormy interview with Robert, whom 
he found awaiting him. 

"Now, Bob, there is no use for you to go any further. I 
gave you my decision last night, and it was final." 

"Well, I'll leave it with you. I've no patience with any 
such foolishness. I am going to take the first train for the 

"You are not going to leave me to go down alone, are you, 

"Ivittle help that I can give a drowning man, with a rope 
dangling at his nose. I am gone," said Robert slamming the 
door behind him. 

It was a trying day for Richard; but he went through it 
with such courage and dignity that he won the admiration of all 
his creditors. It was not cold; but Richard pulled his great coat 
close around him, to shut out the public gaze, as he stept out 
in to the long shadows of the early evening. There was a sen- 
sation in the business circles. The old firm of Richard Ross & 
Co. had gone into the hands of a receiver. Dick heard his 
name as he passed groups of men. The news boys were crying 
the failure of Ross & Co. He bought a paper and hurried on. 
The worst had not yet come. He must go now and release Kva 
from the engagement. How could he? The very earth seemed 


sinking beneath his feet. Well did he remember the balmy 
summer evening, beneath the running rose vine, when she prom- 
ised to be his bride. Now he must lose her too! "But it is 
best," he said to himself as he rang at the door of the Hillman 
house where he had always been welcome; but the old butler on 
this evening was not so polite and obliging as he was wont to be 
on other evenings. Mrs. Hillman did not greet him in the hall, 
as she had done on former occasions; but Eva greeted him with 
a troubled look on her face. Never had she looked more beau- 

"Tell me all about it, Richard. What does all this mean?" 
she said, pointing to the head-lines of the evening paper. 

"That tells it all. Our firm has failed, and all that I pos- 
sess has gone into the assets. I am not worth anything, and 
now I have come to release you from your engagement. It 
would be a mockery to take you from this luxurious home, and 
a shame to ask you to leave it." 

"Richard, do you consider me as a part of your business? 
When it is gone I am gone too?" 

"No; but you as a part of my very life, and now I do not ask 
you to share my failure," replied Dick. 

"An honest gentleman was never a failure. Did you think 
that I valued you as a pile of gold? Did you think that you 
were buying me? If so you shall pay a price of far more value 
than gold for I will take nothing less than yourself," said Eva. 

"The noblest of the noble is a true woman," said Richard 
as he kissed her. 

Now Richard Ross Jr., president of the board of trade, says 
that his first failure was his greatest success. 

Jackson, Miss , Dec. 6, 1902. 


In all the zigzags of human development the unprejudiced 
observer must acknowledge that the world is growing better. 
Generation has succeeded generation until in some countries a 


lofty code of ethics has been evolved, eviacing the highest civi- 
lization. The things that it was once popular to do have had a 
stigma placed upon them by the all-powerful public opinion. 
Yet while, undoubtedly, the human family has been making 
rapid strides in progress, the progress has not been uniform 
throughout the world, nor in any sovereign power of the world. 

This non-uniformity is especially to be seen in the United 
States of America. The reason for this, perhaps, is the vastness 
of the domain placing men in different conditions; or the enor- 
mous number of immigrants that have come to this country all 
along; or the unevenness of individual progress. It would be 
wise to say, no doubt, that each of the above named has had its 
effect. Be that as it may the George Washington of to-day 
must not fight chickens nor the Webster drink brandy. 

So far has public opinion advanced in regard to iatoxicants 
that it is now generally believed that they are the cause of a 
large part of the poverty, vice, and crime in existence. Hence 
over the liquor business a constant watch must be kept. And 
since it is the source of the above, all laws passed for its control 
and regulation must, necessarily, be for public protection, and 
not for the elevation of public morality, for wise men long ago 
have recognized the futility of making man good by legislation. 
The primal purpose of all law is protection, and the states, in 
passing laws in regard to liquor, with the moral aspects pure 
and simple have nothing to do. It is just as in regard to 
murder: not to make any man moral, but to protect the people. 

The three most common systems employed b}' the states for 
the regulation of the liquor business are the license system, 
state prohibition, and local option. Mississippi has the latter, 
which is a form of the license system with local prohibition. 
About one-half of the states of the Union have the local option 
system; one-third, formerly, bnt now five have state prohibition; 
and the rest, with the exception of Ohio and South Carolina, 
which have systems of their own, have the license system. 

In examining the different systems we observe that the 
license system, the Ohio tax system, and the South Carolina dis- 
pensary system are not intended to prohibit; that the state pro- 


hibition system, while it prohibits the legal sale, does not pro- 
hibit the sale; but that local option alone, and in the long run, 
prohibits. That this may be the more evident it is necessary to 
recall to mind the manner in which the laws of a State are 
administered. Mississippi, for instance, is divided into counties 
upon which the enforcement of the state laws devolves. One 
county cannot enforce the laws in another county. Each 
county is a whole within itself, and yet a part of a whole, that 
whole being the State. The grand jury of the county in which 
the crime is committed must indict, and the petit jury of the 
same must convict. Thus it is easily seen that a law will not be 
enforced in a county to which it is especially obnoxious. For if 
a man have to report himself to the grand jury he will not be 
reported; and if he is reported by some one else he will refuse 
to indict himself, for, so to speak, he will be on the grand jury; 
and if he should indict himself he must then proceed to convict 
himself. The best enforced law is that law which has the 
greatest number of adherents in a county, and that law which 
has but few is scarcely ever enforced. Such a law only tends to 
make men careless about the enforcement of other laws. 

It was the realization of these facts which served as a 
motive for Mississippi to adopt the local option system for the 
control of the liquor business. One by one all of the counties 
of the state, save some ten or twelve, have by local option elec- 
tions, many of them hotly contested, expunged the legal sale of 
liquor from their borders; and are, because of the majorities, 
slowly driving out the illicit sale. Where the sale of liquor has 
been kept up with there has been a very marked decrease in 
certain crimes and absolute poverty of certain of the lower 
classes. Such a decrease could not possibly be unless the sale 
was strictly checked, for a man who will commit crime or starve 
his family because of drink will not hesitate to enter a place of 
illicit sale to obtain it. 

The decrease of certain crimes, and the alleviation of a great 
deal of the abject poverty in the prohibition counties served as 
a motive to some to attempt to pass a bill at the last session of 
the state legislature to prohibit the sale of liquor in the state of 


Mississippi. It was an attempt to throw off the local option 
system and adopt the state prohibition system. However well 
the attempt was planned, and notwithstanding both the great 
pressure brought to bear by the temperance societies, which 
would make laws prohibiting the Madagascars eating snakes 
and turn them over to be enforced by the Madagascans, and the 
fact that the overwhelming majority of the legislators were from 
prohibition counties, it was successfully defeated. The greater 
part of those who opposed the bill did so, no doubt, because of 
the doubt in their minds as to the desires of their constituency, 
as they were not elected upon such an issue; and the rest, 
though they would not have ignored such a consideration, did so 
because they saw that such a bill wouM not hasten prohibition 
in the least, but that barm most probably would result. 

The most successful argument in favor of state prohibition 
is that a law prohibiting murder while it does not prohibit yet 
on that account is not an evil; aad that a law prohibiting the 
sale of liquor in the State while it would not prohibit yet must 
not be considered an evil. If such an anology could be made, 
why, all good and well. But there can be no such anology in 
the mind of him who looks beneath the surface of things. There 
is a school of writers who, however much we may disagree 
from them, hold that so long as an offender is duly punished 
the law has not been broken. They hold that the law pro- 
hibiting murder says that yon shall not kill, and that if you 
do kill you shall be hanged. The individual is free to choose 
which he will, "kill not," or "be hanged." Whether we 
agree with this school or not, we do ackcowledge that the 
majesty of the law is alone vindicated when the guilty party is 
brought to justice. Since every county in the State would vote 
unanimously for a law prohibiting murder, and not for a law pro- 
hibiting the sale of liquor, majorities not being had in some 
twelve counties, we see that the law prohibiting the sale of 
liquor will not be vindicated; hence the far-fetchedness of the 

While the citizens of the prohibition counties are anxious 
to suppress that which they cannot suppress, yet they do not 


try to suppress that whicb they can suppress. I refer to mob 
violence. They have not yet risen to that point in the scale 
of progress from which they can look down with disfavor upon 
a mob of lawless men who hurl an immortal soul, perhaps inno- 
cent of the crime, into the visible presence of an avenging God. 
There is a United States law, not mentioned above, which, in 
substance, says that where two or more persons combine to do 
a third personal hurt they shall be tried before a Uuited States 
court. The United States court consists in districts made up 
of counties, and by using this law it would be comparatively 
easy to indict members of mobs by the Federal graud jury if 
that grand jury was as enthusiastic to suppress what it can 
as it is what it cannot. If there is a general apathy towards 
suppression of mobs nothing will be done. 

The papers bring us the news that Vermont, the State 
which has been cited by the state prohibitionists as the model 
State, which has had state prohibition for fifty years, has now 
thrown it off and has adopted the local option system. This is 
conclusive proof that state prohibition will not prohibit, not 
even in the long run of fifty years. 

Shall Mississippi, on the other hand, with her state pro- 
hibition ticket, throw off the local option system, under which 
she is so admirably accomplishing the end desired, and adopt 
state prohibition, taking the place of Vermont in the five prohi- 
bition States? Rather, shall she not continue as she is until 
the billows of the Gulf shall break upon the shores of prohibi- 
tion counties, and the Father of Waters glide on to the sea pass 
counties of the State of its name in similar condition? Then 
can prohibitionists of other States point to Mississippi as the 
model State with the model system, for I reiterate my statement 
that local option alone ^ andi?i the long run, prohibits. 

X. Y. Z. 



^ Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., DECEMBER, 1902. No. 3. ^ 

Published Moathly by the Students of Millsaps College 

W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief 

Lamar Easterling Associate Editor 

F. D. MellEN, Alumni Editor 

D. L. BixGHAM Local Editor. 

JOS. H. Penix, Literary Editor. 

H. V. Watkins, Athletic Editor. 

F. E. GuNTER, Business Manager 

W. C. Bowman, M. S. Pittman, Assistants 

Remittances and husiness communications should he sent to F. E. 
Gunter, Business Manager. Matter intended for puhlication should be sent 
to W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief. 


Subscriptiou Per annum $1.00. Two Copies Per Annum $1.50. 


THE ETHICS The literary societies of Millsaps have, unlike 
OF THE cearly everything else connected with the College, 

LlTEi^ARY failed to attain a marked degree of excellence. 
SOCIETY. They have retained the same old stereotyped pro- 
gramme, the debate, and this has been and is still, 
barely more than disputes between the members over questions 
selected by Committeemen who have in view escape from a 
fine rather than the selection of an evenly balanced question 
which involves deep study. The reasons then for the lack of 
marked improvement in the literary societies are (i) that they 
have no variety programme and (2) the regular debate which 
constitutes almost the entire programme, is poorly, miserably 

We do not mean to discount the debate. There is no one 


thing connected with college work which does more to develop 
the student. Its place in the college world is unique. From 
a study of grammatical forms one may become versed in the use 
of language, logic enables us to be consistent, but the thought 
itself is the product of the individual thinker, and the true 
debator is necessarily a thinker. But monotony, though it be a 
monotonous good-thing is tiresome. The human mind is that 
close kin to the human stomach that it wants a variety-food. 
Then, to have the society-mind in the best humor, and no one 
can develop in a bad humor, it is necessary to provide this va- 
riety-food. So lets bring to our mental festal board, now so 
frugally spread, essays from the best among us, spicy selections 
from the best authors, or just any delicious morsel we can prepare 
or that some one else has prepared and we can lay our hands 
on. I,ets have one or two such meetinge each month. These 
programmes may be placed in the hands of a wide awake com- 
mittee who can assign work to those specially gifted in the 
chosen line, or place members on duty with the privilege of 
making their own selections. 

The ailment of the society is a chronic sameness, or a com- 
pulsory service. We do not give suflBcient freedom for individ- 
ual work. I^his disease is not confined to the society but 
attacts all modern colleges in a disguised form, "degrees." 
You can't mentally eat what your mind is starving for the want 
of, because it is absolutely necessary that you have on a partic- 
ular kind of information, not necesserily knowledge , which is 
calculated to digest an examination, and, according to recent 
arrangements, it must be powerful, sufficiently strong to use 
up nine examinations in five days. 

To the second cause of the societies failure to develop: the 
debate not entered into in the proper spirit. 

The committeemen as a rule select lopsided questions, ques- 
tions which may be construed to mean half a dozen different 
things. They select a question not because it involves great 
principles, not because it demands profound study, not because 
it will enlighten the debator or the audience, but because they 
believe that the speakers will be able to secure a five or ten 


minutes' speech, a fine-escape speech; or perhaps they are yet less 
humanitarian in their motives and merely desire to secure a 
fine-escape question. We can with little effort recall some of 
these accommodating subjects: "Resolved, that there is more 
pleasure in the memory of the past than in the anticipations of 
the future"; "Resolued, That the pursuit of an object affords 
more pleasure than the possession of the object." There are 
numerous others even more purely accom-modating but we take 
the less ridiculous medium. 

The committeemen lack the ethical sense and noble concep- 
tion of their duty which would have them develop the individual 
debater and profitably entertain his audience. They fail to 
grasp the fact, or grasping it fail to have sufficient moral incen- 
tive to utilize it, that there are social and political questions 
demanding every spare moment of the student's time, problems 
of individual and national life which he must attempt to solve. 
Instead of furnishing questions which bring about a search for 
light and the truth, they hand in those which appeal to the 
debater's skillful play on words and ability to escape the vital 
issue by equivocation. They prepare the cards for a game of 

The committeemen are not the only indifferent participants 
in the debate; nor must too much of the censure be directed against 
them. Although the subject for discussion may hamper, to a 
great extent, the search for truth, the subject matter is of far 
more significance. No matter if the committee does fail to state 
the question so tnat a narrow and partial interpretation is possi- 
ble, the debater may escape this evil by giving a broad, a 
common-sense interpretation of it. He may implore the Goddess 
of "Wisdom for knowledge rather than the gods of sophistry and 
jugglery for a skillful hand and an equivocating tongue. 
I<ocke (^Thoughts Concerning Education) said, "If the use and 
end of right reasoning be to have right notions and right judg- 
ment of things, to distinguish between truths and falsehoods, 
right and wrong, and to act accordingly, be sure not to let your 
son be bred up in the art and formality of disputing — either 
practicing it himself or admiring it in others — unless, instead o^ 


an able man, you desire to have him an insignificant wrangler 
opinionator in discourse, and priding himself in contradicting 
others; or, which is worse, questioning everything and thinking 
there is no such thing as truth to be sought, but onty victory, in 
disputing. There cannot be anything so disingenious, so unbe- 
coming a gentleman, or any one who pretends to be a rational 
ceature, as not to yield to plain reason and the conviction of 
clear arguments. Is there anything so inconsistent with civil 
conversation, and the end of all debate, than not to take an 
answer, though ever so full and satisfactory? * * * * For 
this, in short, is the way and perfection of logical disputes, that 
the opponent never takes any answer, nor the respondent ever 
yields to argument." 

With a few master-strokes he has delineated the character- 
istics common to a vast multitude of college society debaters. 
What they need and we need is a literary -society conscience 
which will leave the society members dissatisfied until they have 
done their best to secure an interesting programme, that will not 
let the committeemen rest until they have given in a good ques- 
tion, nor will allow the debater to be satisfied with anything less 
than a diligent search for the truth. 




We ate thoroughly pleased with the University of Virginia 
Magazine, both with its cover and its contents. It is neatly and 
tastily gotten up in every respect. It presents quite an interest- 
ing and varied table of contents. The poetry and prose are 
arranged throughout in such a way as to give the most pleasing 
effect to the whole. "Thomas Moore's Roman and Greek 
Mythology" is a good subject, and it is treated in a very definite 
and beautiful manner. The comparison \vith Anacreon is aptly 
made. The author has interwoven the essay with beautiful 
quotations, which strikingly illustrate the points under consider- 
ation. "A World on Fire" should be read by all who are inter- 
ested in Astronomy. The article is well written, and holds the 
attention throughout. The writer is evidently well acquainted 
with astronomical lore. "The Settlement of Jamestown" is a 
historical sketch, and one that shows much research in its 
preparation. The two stories, "A Porcelain Courtship" and 
"Le Delire," are interesting in plot and are well told. The 
poetry in this issue is above the average. "To the Mountain 
Golden-rod" is especially worthy of complimentary mention. 
The magazine is one of our strongest exchanges, and we are glad 
to note the high stand it is taking in college journalism. Its 
staff has our hearty congratulation. 

The Hendrix College Mirror comes to us in an up-to-date 
and handsome dress, yet its contents are more worthy of praise. 
We are always glad to receive the Mirror, as it contains so much 
interesting reading matter. "The Achievement of Union 
Labor" is an admirable article on Trade Unions, and it shows 
ability on part of author to discuss in a lucid manner one of the 
leading questione of the day. "The Influences of the Physical 
Sciences" is a strongly written essay, and one that shows a wide 


range of information. It tells of the influences that physical 
sciences have had in the development of the human race. 
"Having a Time at Uncle Dick's" is smoothly and naturally 
told, and contains some humorous incidents that were certainly 
based on experience. Humorous or funny pieces interspersed 
among the more serious and heavy articles serve to relieve the 
monotony of a magazine, and to add interest and life to it. 
The one piece of poetry, "Hallow'een," is poetic and graceful; 
the second and third verses are especially beautiful. The poem 
reminds us of Poe's "Eldorado," in its meter and rythm. 
More poetry would be advantageous to securing interest. 
Hardly anything adds more to the attractiveness of a college 
magazine than bright bits of verse, scattered around so as to 
relieve the sameness of the prose. The editorials deal, in a 
very lively and eloquent style, with some of the live topics of 
the day. The exchange department is well conducted, and it 
contains some helpful remarks and criticisms. Waiving the 
scantiness of poetry, the Mirror is decidedly one of the best 
monthlies we have seen this year. The staff and students are to 
be congratulated on getting out so creditable a magazine. 

We are glad to welcome to the realms of college journalism 
the Hillniaji Lesbideliayi. In its struggle for existence amid all 
the evils attendant upon a young magazine's life, it has our 
hearty sympathy and encouragement. A college magazine 
when supported by the ardent co-operation of the student body 
fulfils a very important mission in college life and training, not 
merely by reflecting the life and progress of the institution, but 
also by developing the literary talent among the students, and 
by giving that ease and finish of style that can only be attained 
by long and persistent practice. Every student at college should 
consider it his or her duty to contribute two or more articles to 
the college paper during the year. They should remember that 
the college journal represents the whole student-body. All the 
poor, scanty journals that barely eke out an existence, can be 
traced to the indifference of the student-body. We may truly 


say, however, that the Lesbiddian has made a brave start. This 
issue contains in addition to its departments several articles of 
interest. "Nothing Walks With Aimless Feet" is a pretty sub- 
ject for an essay, and is well treated. The author's views are 
borne out and strengthened by many beautiful and appropriate 
quotations. The poem, "When the Sun Goes Down," is 
deserving of complimentary mention. The departments are 
well edited and show care and thoughtfulness in their prepara- 
tion. With its efficient staff and the co-operation of the students, 
we see no reason why the Lesbidelian should not be successful. 
We welcome it to our desk. 

The November issue of the Vanderhilt Observer — the only 
one we have received — is indeed a very creditable edition. It 
contains several good articles and some unusually good poetry. 
"Carlyle's Message" is a strong article and is ably presented. 
In it the relation of Carlyle to his age, and the great message he 
thundered forth to the world, are strikingly pointed out. 
"Enoch Arden, the Martyr," shows a keen insight into that 
poem, and a true appreciation of Tennyson's genius and sublimity 
of thought and feeling. "The Gridiron on the Styx" is very 
interesting and humorous. If you want to laugh, read it. 
"Swallows to the Southward" and "Uaknown" are commend- 
able efforts at verse. "Jim and Joe" is a pathetic story told in 
verse, which contains many beautiful lines with real poetry in 
them. The Observer is one of our strongest exchanges. 

The Unioersity Unit, of Fort Worth, Texas, is rather late 
in making its appearance this session, but it is neatly bound and 
contains much interesting reading, and on the whole we think it 
bids fair to keep up its high reputation as a college journal. 
•'Cardinal De Richelieu" is decidedly the best piece in it. This 
is written in a lively style, and shows that the writer had a true 
insight into, and sympathy with, his subject; it further shows 
that he fully appreciated the part played by that wonderful man 
in the history of France. "The Wandering Minstrel" is a 


short, but interesting and touching, tribute to the author of 
"Home, Sweet Home." "Each Passing Day" is a poem ot 
unusual merit and beauty. The editorials are broad in their 
scope, but on the whole interesting and well written. The 
exchange department is exceedingly well conducted, indeed. 
We congratulate the exchange editor on the very dashing and 
enterprising manner in which she has begun the session. We 
will have to complain of the absence of fiction in the Unit^ as 
we think a story or two would add to its general interest and 

The Tiilane University Magazine makes its appearance in a 
neat and tasty cover. It is a well edited monthly and shows up 
to good advantage. It contains an interesting and varied assort- 
ment of reading matter. "My Burglar Serenade" and "Miss 
Mitchell's Assignment" are interesting storyettes, and are well 
told. "The Glory that Was Greece" is dealt with in an elegant 
and^ compreheusive way. Perhaps the writer unconsciously 
imitated Demosthenes, of whom he spoke. "A Defence 
of College Education" is a clever and elaborate defence of 
college education against grumblers and those who would depre- 
ciate college-bred men. The author makes some strong points in 
favor of college education, and we fully agree with him in all he 
said. "Love the Conqueror of All" is a drama fanciful and 
varied. It is well presented and the plot seems good. "The 
Light o' My Lady's Eyes" is one of the best poems we have seen 
this session. The editor is to be congratulated upon his excursion 
from old and hacknied themes into realms of more up-to-date 
ones. The exchange department, as may be seen at a glance, is 
receiving the attention it deserves. We congratulate the 

The Jotirnal is a handsomely bound magazine, with much 
good reading in it. Heavy articles, however, occupy most of the 
space. The article entitled "Trusts" is a very forcible plea for 
trusts. In it the writer makes some good points, still there is 
another side to the question. "A Bit of Unknown History" is 


well written and very interesting. The other articles show the 
same thoroughness in their preparation and treatment. What 
the ybwrwa/ needs is more fiction. The exchange department is 
interesting, and contains many helpful criticisms and remarks. 

The November issue of the Maroo?i and White makes a 
good appearance, but it is rather short in reading matter; how- 
ever, what there is in it is well written and sensible. The prin- 
cipal article in it is "The Shakespeake-Bacon Controversy"; 
but the subject seems old and pretty well worn out. The depart^ 
ments, though, are all well edited, and speak up well for the staff; 
so we rather atttribute the scantiness of the magazine to the 
apathy of the student-body. The September issue contained a 
good story, the "Tale of Two Bridges." More essays and 
stories would improve it. 

For want of space we will have to content ourselves by 
acknowledging the receipt of the following exchanges also: 
Blue and Gold, Ptirple arid Green, College Refiecror, The Alpha, 
Twentieth Century Tattler, Revielle, Olive and Blue, Mississippi 
College Magazine, Parkee Purple, Southwestern Magazine, Ran- 
dolph Macon Monthly, Crimson and Gold, Deaf Mute Voice, Chatsy 
Converse Concept, Clionion, Cap and Gown, Emory Phoenix. 


Thou seekest not for bold display 

Before the gaze of men, 
But bloomest rather to make gay 

Some lonely mountain glen. 

With steady purpose toward the sun 
Thou springest from the mold ; 

Yet modestly dost bow thy head 
And wear thy crest of gold. 


What matter though no human eye ! 

Be conscious of thy grace? ^ 

Enough for thee to live and die; 

Our Father makes thy place. 

— Univ. of Va. Magazine. ' 

Drucilla paints divinely, 

Surpassing all in skill, 
And yet she scoffs at nature, 

Nor studies vale or hill. 

She joics colors neatly, 

And never smears or streaks, 

But still you doubt her talent? 
Behold Drucilla's cheeks. 

— Univ. of Va. Magazine. 

If I should steal a kiss from you. 
Pray, pretty maid, what would you do? 
With eyelids dropped, she murmured: "Well, 
Until you do how can I tell?" — Ex. 


At ten,, a child; at twenty, wild; 

At thirty, tame, if ever; 
At forty, wise; at fifty, rich; 

At sixty, good, or never. — Ex. 


A^book of verses underneath the bough, 
A jug of wine, a loaf of bread — and thou 

Singing beside me in the wilderness 

Oh, wilderness were Paradise enow. 

— Omar Khayyam. 

An auto on the shaded avenue way, 

A promoter, per annum, a few millions, say; 
Coal in the cellar till winter is o'er — 


An heiress and it's worth while to stay. 

— W. H. N., in Maroon and White. 

Fantastic shapes are stealing around; 
Ghosts on every side are found. 

The wind is blowing — 

Through the tree-tops going, 
And the air is filled with a ghostly sound. 

— Randolph Macon. 

Student (reading Virgil) — '-Three times I strove to cast my 
arms around her neck — that's as far as I got, professor." 
Professor — "Well, sir, that's quite far enough." 

— Yale Record. 


Two kinds of boys are found In college, 
Both apparently after knowledge. 
There's a patient, grinding man. 
Improving every moment which he can. 
Then there's the fellow wirh the knack 
Of reading Latin with a 

— Blue and Gold. 

Prof. Brunson — "Mr. Pilkenton, how did you get that 
skinned nose and black eye?" 

Pilkenton — "I went to that church wedding and sasv a fellow 
strutting around, and asked him who he was. He told me that 
he was the bestrsi2M. I told him to prove it — and he did." 



H. V. W ATKINS, Editor. 

Nothing excites greater admiration than a strong, graceful 
well proportioned physique, an evidence of physical culture and 
development. But physical culture is not mere muscular 
strength, but is rather a symmetrical, healthy, and harmonious 
activity of all parts of the body, a state of physical and mental 
equipoise, and is that system that seeks to develop every muscle 
of the body in due proportion, and which seeks after suppleness 
and symmetry. All have read of the alertness of the Grecian 
youths in participating in the athletic sports and games, all 
based on their reverence and love for a beautifully formed body, 
and if the health and beauty of the race are to be improved, 
gymnastics represents the proper course. 

An elaborate system of gymnastic training, combined with 
much out-of-door exercise, should be made a part of the educa- 
tion of every young man and young woman in our colleges. It 
is strikingly noticeable that physical culture has come to play 
an important role in a great number of educational institutions, 
and the universally increasing attention being given is the best 
omen. It seems more apparent in this age than ever before that 
the development of the muscles of the body is equally as impor- 
tant and essential as the education and cultivation of the mind. 
Educators in our day have done much and are still doing more 
for the advancement of this cause than those of any previous 
age. Though many advocate it, yet there are those who look 
askance at any attempt which is made to better the condi- 
tion and broaden the scope of this department, for no other rea- 
son than that they have a mistaken idea and are in the dark as 
to the true object of this work. The purpose of the gymnasium 
is not the trair.iug of acrobats who may perform numerous diffi- 
cult and dangerous feats, but to develop the various muscles of 
the different parts of the body. 

Then many are indifferent to the gymnastic work, consider- 
ing themselves the physical equal of any careful student of the 


gymnasium, because of mere muscular strength and brute force 
and power attained by manual labor, and therefore entirely neg- 
lecting the importance of the work in the gymnasium. One 
may be strong in the muscles of the arms, or of the legs, but no 
one is developed properly or proportionately unless having had 
a systematic training. The gymnasium not only develops 
strength, but lends grace and imbues one with self-confidence 
and ease that can be got nowhere else. The acquirement of 
excessive strength, or great power of endurance, does not pro- 
duce the desired effect, since it is irrational and tends towards 
the abnormal. 

A student having access to a thoroughly equipped training 
hall, if only for a few hours a week, may continue a course of 
development which will assist materially, in a short time, the 
building of a healthful, robust body. To the hard student the 
gymnasium especially commends itself, supplying the exercise 
whfch is so needful to those who apply themselves closely. Yet, 
while it is noticeable that this development is very important 
and necessary, only a small per cent, care to interest themselves 
in this department of instruction. College men who are the 
closest students, the leaders of their cla^sea, but those feeling 
that they can never afford to spend an hour in the gymnasium 
or on the field, are the men who are deprived of a successful 
business or professional life by ill health and lack of strength. 



D. I.. BINGHAM, Editor. 

Dr. Murrah attended the Mississippi Conferences this 

R. D. Clark, '04, spent Thanksgiving day with club mates 
on the campus. 

W. M. Casey deciding that he had lived long enough in 
this world in single blessedness, has withdrawn from school 
and married. He is now an employee of the Southern Ex- 
press Co. 

Several of our boys took advantage of the Thanksgiving 
holiday and went home. Of course they had an excellent 
time and the folks were glad to see them. 

E. H. Galloway, '00, spent several days in Jackson during 
the first of the month visiting friends. He is studying medicine 
at ^Vanderbuilt university where he graduates this year. 

The Literary Societies have decided to have a public debate 
to take place on the third Friday night in January. Messrs. 
Nobles and Russel will represent the I^amar, and Messrs. 
Welch and Wossan the Galloway. The question has not yet 
been decided on. 

Henry Polk Lewis, '00, Spent a few days with home- 
folks this week. He is now the pastor of the Methodist church 
at Anguilla. 

"He sent his boy to college. 

And now he cries. Alack! 
He spent two thousand dollars 

And got a quarter back." 

Marvin Galloway, '02, occupies the position of principal of 
the Auburn High School, Auburn, Miss. 

Our lyibraian. Miss Lynn Hemingway, was absent from the 


library one day last month from sickness. Her place was filled 
by her sister Miss Kate. 

The Senior Class held its first meeting this month. A 
class stick was adopted and from the size of it we would sup- 
pose it was designed as an article of defense rather than for 
sporting purposes. The following officers were elected: Miss 
Hemingway Pres. Miss Millsaps V. Pres. 

lycon C. Holloman, '01, was on the campus Monday shak- 
ing hands with friends. 

"Pete" Clark spent a few days on the campus last week. 
He was on his way home from New York where he has been 
attending the Eastman Business college. He has not yet de- 
cided where he will locate. 

Rev. T. L. Mellen came out to see his son, Frederic, last 
week, who has been sick. He was on his way to Natchez to 
attend Conference. 

Luther Manship, who has been quite sick for some time, 
is now able to be out and is spending a few days in Yazoo City 
with relatives to recuperate. 

Miss Genie Corothers of Carry is the guest of her sister, 
Mrs. J. M. Sullivan, this month. 

"It seems rather strange" observed the facetious youth as 
he watched his father tossed by a bull, "i*. seems rather strange 
that I should laugh so when my stock is below pa." 

Mrs. Murrah entertained the bachelor members of the 
faculty at a dining during the month. 

E. B. Mayes was quite sick during the first of the month but 
we are glad to report him able to resume his work. 

A contemporary observed that the Crown Prince of Siam 
looks like a man who is accustomed to take life easy. Of course. 
We have all heard of the Siam ease. 



F. D. MELLEN, Editor 

Mr. T. C. Bradford is principal of Montrose High school. 

Mr. Leonard Hart is studying medicine in Columbian Uni- 
versity, New York. 

Perhaps many will be surprised to know that we number 
among our Alumni Francis M. Austin. Judge Austin is one of 
our first graduates. Immediately after taking his degree, he 
moved to Texas and there entered into the practice of law. But 
he was not destined, as are so many, to long obscurity. With 
a high purpose before him, he threw his soul into his work with 
such determination that he is today a recognized authority in 
his chosen profession. 

The primal purpose "of this department is an attempt not 
only to keep sympathy aroused between the Alumnus and hi« 
Alma Mater, but so far as possible, to keep informed as to the 
whereabouts of every old student. As to the importance of this, 
nothing need be said, other than that no college can maintain 
so lofty a position without this iaformation as with it. 

Mr. H. L. Clark, 1902, who for the past few months has 
been taking a business course at Poughkeepsle, New York, on 
his way home, paid us a hurried visit. Mr. Clark has secured 
a splendid position In his home county. 

The great strides made by Mississippi Agricultural and 
Mechanical College during the past five years, have probably 
been due, more than to any other cause, to the strenuous efforts 
of one man, its president, Mr. J. C. Hardy, '97. Mr. Hardy 
reflects credit upon both of the institutions of which he Is a 
graduate. It Is of a class of men like him, that any school is 
glad to boast. There is nothing which we might say of Mr. 
Hardy that Mlsslsslpplans do not well know. 

Mr. J. B. Howell, '02, who Is attending Vanderbllt Uni- 
versity, has so distinguished himself as a student that he has 


attracted the attention of the whole faculty. But nothing less 
than this could be expected, for he has always been faithful to 
duty and tireless in his efforts. 

Mr. H. H. Hinds, for several years a student of this institu- 
tion, is president of Coushatta College. Mr. Hind's position is 
indeed an important trust for one so young. 

We recently had the pleasure of quite an agreeable visit 
from Rev. H. P. Lewis, Jr., 'oo, while on his way to Natchez 
to attend the present session of the Mississippi Conference, of 
which body he is a member. 

Among the most enterprising young lawyers of this State, 
are the members of the law firm of Teat & Teat, Kosciusko. 
Both these gentlemen are graduates of the Literary as well as 
the Law Department of this college. There can be do doubt of 
their future success. 

The Alumni of various institutions have shown sympathy 
for the work accomplished by their respective colleges, principally 
by promoting material interests. In several instances through 
laudable munificence they have founded so-called "Alumni 
Halls;" and in still other cases have visibly increased endow- 
ment funds. While none of our Alumni are able to give with 
such unbonnded liberality, yet there are other means by which 
they may advantageously exert themselves for the upbuilding of 
the college. There is no doubt that the library, the museum 
and the laboratories are all incomplete. And further, in idle 
hours they might canvass for the institution. These things 
are but parts of the great debt one owes to his Alma Mater. 
After all, it is the little things that count. 



JOS. H. PENIX, Editor, 


Fiction, like other departments of life, has its extremes, be- 
tween whicli oscillate, sometimes with greater, again with 
lesser impetus, its ideals and its purposes. Literary taste is 
constantly changing, or rather, perhaps, is constantly being 
changed, whether because of overwrought themes, or by the 
advent of new circles of writers, new conditions of life, or new 
phases of thought. From the romanticism of the eighteenth 
century, it has passed over to the realism of the twentieth. 

Of course, a great part of the literary world regards this as 
the emancipator of the novel, and the index of its proper future, 
and in the true sense, we believe it is. But, like even greater 
movements, it has been, by some writers, carried to harmful 
excess. There is a certain vital relation between fact and fiction 
that cannot be rightly nor successfully disregarded, and with 
some phases of life are mixed elements of coarseness, rudeness, 
meanness and knavery. When the portrayal of these is neces- 
sary to whatever worthy object the writer would attain, it is his 
to present them. May he not forget, though, as some seem to 
have done, that realism is not, of necessity, vulgarism, and that 
the nobler Impulses of life are as real as the meaner. Those 
books that have lived to a respected age b«cause of the mere 
portrayal of human character and human deeds were written by 
men and women who did not sacrifice a worthy purpose at the 
shrine of their art, but who discerned the highest and truest 
realities of life in what the unwitting and misanthropic might 
deem as but ideal and visionary. 

No writer has attained a happier mean with reference to 
this matter, none has more successfully combined the varied 
elements that go to make up the complexity of character, and so 
none is more real in his representations than Ralph Connor. He 

♦The Man from Glengarry, by Ralph Connor; Fleming H. Revell Co 


has, if we are to judge from his books, a large conception of life, 
and a profound faith in humanity. Though he sometimes shows 
us dark and dangerous passions, he sometimes shows us, too, in 
a vivid way, the conquest and victory of temperance over wil- 
fulness, of manhood over primitive proneness; and the struggle 
of the soul is all the more intense and thrilling because the foe 
is fearful and the fight is long. And occasionally we have one 
of those characters, rare indeed, but none the less real, whose 
whole life is a sacrifice and a benediction. In fact, he is rich in 
the variety of his men and women, and in the case of his chief 
characters, we are especially impressed by the fact that, when 
once they have triumphed over their meaner selves, they ever rep- 
resent definite and worthy purposes, and if tragedy overtake them 
tbey stand by these purposes to the end. In the works of none 
of our latter-day writers, do we meet with manlier men or more 
womanly women. 

The author's latest story. The Man from Glengarry, is, 
without question, his best. It begins with the thrilling descrip- 
tion of a fight between two rival gangs of lumbermen en the 
Ottawa River, in which McDonald Dubh receives an injury 
from which he never recovers, though both he and his son, 
Ranald, swear to avenge it. Soon after, Ranald, who is the 
principal character of the novel, gains the friendship of Mrs. 
Murray, wife of the minister at Glengarry, and the influence of 
this saintly and devoted woman plays a great part in his subse- 
quent career. He also meets Maimie St. Clair, a niece who is 
visiting Mrs. Murray, saves her life, and in a youthful outburst 
they make known their love for each other. Some time later, 
at Quebec, he probably saves the life of Le Noir, the man who 
injured his father, and forgives him according to his father's 
dying request. Here, also, he again meets Maimie, and with 
her, several friends, among whom is Kate Raymond. His thor- 
ough manhood appeals to Kate at once, and she frankly shows 
her pleasure at meeting him. But Maimie has become a belle, 
proud of the aristocratic society in which she moves, and shows 
her embarrassment at the appearance of Ranald. However, 
through his manliness and good sense, he wins the respect of 


all, rapidly advances to high social position, becomes manager of 
the Raymond & St. Clair Co., and apparently wins Maimie 
again. But, on his return from a prospective trip through the 
company's timber lands, he is requested by Mr. St. Clair to 
withhold his leport until the company can close a pending bar- 
gain, but flatly refuses, and tenders his resignation. About the 
same time, he learns that Maimie is engaged to a Captain 
Del^acy. Immediately, he is employed by the British American 
Coal and Lumber Co., and by his untiring efforts, not only 
advances their interests, but also has much to do in bringing 
about a closer attacliment between his section and the Canadian 
government at a critical time when it was considering annexa- 
tion to the United States. He afterwards realizes that he prob- 
ably would have been disappointed in Maimie, and marries his 
friend and Maimie's, Kate Raymond, who has loved him in 
silence so long, and whose sweet-tempered and hopeful nature is 
the perfect complement of his own. 

The story is interspersed with graphic descriptions. It is 
seldom indeed that one meets with more thrilling descriptions 
than those of the fight between Dan Murphy's gang and the 
Glengarry men, the night ride of Ranald and Mrs. Murray, and 
the contest at the "logging bee." 

The plot of the novel is not its most pleasing element. In 
fact, the story is somewhat digressive. It is in the presentation 
of his personages that the writer is at his best. His expression 
is singularly pure, virile, unrestrained and refreshing, and the 
mighty Canadian forest is a fitting background for the rude but 
potential types that are transforming the great Northwest into 
the congruous part of a mighty empire. Such conditions of 
primeval wilderness are favorable to the production of just such 
men as Ralph Connor delights in describing; men as free and 
unrestrained as the storm-wind that rocks the mighty pine and 
birch along the Ottawa, as stern and unyielding as those forest 
kings themselves. Moreover, there is something in the stern 
yet passionate Scotch nature that appeals to the awe and admira- 
tion of men whenever it is portrayed, and an expressiveness in 
the rugged, practical Scotch dialect that has given it a favored 


place in English literature. The Glengarry men are true Scots; 
stern, proud, and fearless, but with feelings that flood them and 
sweep everything before them when once the dam is broken. 
The author is very skilful in his employment of dialect, thus 
securing the best aid to the representation of these characters. 
The Scotticisms in the sketches of Maclaren are not more 
expressive than the more Anglicised, yet none the less peculiar, 
dialect of these Canadian sons of the Highlands. 

But stronger than the customs of primitive life, mightier 
than the maelstrom of primitive passions, appears a force which 
softens their severity, retouches their rudeness, and makes them 
fit builders of a mighty state. Their religion was doubtless too 
severe; they seemed fo hear the voice of God from the darkness 
of Sinai, not from the glory of Olivet; they may have feared 
more than they loved, for their creed was founded on the narrow, 
Calvinistic teachings of Scotch Presbyterianism; yet this pro- 
duced an uncompromising sense of duty, and a rigid discipline 
of life and action, which fitted them for the struggles and hard- 
ships of frontier life. 

His characters in general, though diverse, are all very inter- 
esting, and highly probable. Mrs. Murray is a perfect expres- 
sion of consecrated womanhood, while her husband is a true 
type of the Scotch Presbyterian minister. "Yankee" is as truly 
the shrewd, calculating and resourceful American as is West- 
cott's "David Harum." Maimie St. Clair is a true type of 
womanhood, so is Kate Raymond; the former, perhaps, the 
rule, the latter, the exception. Ranald McDonald, however, as 
chief personage of the story, is the center of our interest. 
Through his veins runs the hot blood of the McDonalds before 
him; he seems to inherit only their rude traits and customs, 
and the wild, exultant freedom of the forest; he knows nothing 
whatever of the whirl of activities beyond the rim of the wood- 
land; yet some genius has talked with him of destiny, and in 
his soul there is the consciousness of inherent greatness that 
shall not be baflBed. To us, the most significant earnest of his 
future is the fact that he was strong enough to withdraw his 
affection from Maimie, and bestow it on a woman who was truly 


worthy of it. There is no doubt that Mamie loved him, so far 
as she was capable of love, but she yielded to the influence of 
her aunt, and a piteous pride of rank, and thus lost his love 
forever. It is the same stern tale that the world hears so often, 
but ours is no broken-hearted hero, to spend his life in melan- 
choly and misdirection. He takes a practical, common-sense 
view of matters, and goes to work with renewed determination 
and success, thus vindicating the fact, more inspiring than all 
the records of abstractive sentiment, that true manliness makes 
its own destiny. 

^ L'*^ 


Vol.:5. JACKSON, MISS., FEBRUARY, 1903 No. 5. ^ 


Mr. Silas Gray, more generally known ss Deacon Gray, was 
an eccentric old gentleman in the estimation of his nephew, 
Arthur Gray, and the general public agreed with him; but at the 
same time he was held in high esteem by all, for he belonged 
to that class of men that make a nation strong. Men who stand 
by their convictions, and are governed by high and lofty prin- 
ciples. He had lived all alone in a comforcable planter's home. 
Just why he had never married no one knew. It was said that 
Elmwood, the beautiful home on the bluffs overlooking the 
river, was built for a bride; but she never came. It was one of 
the Deacon's peculiarities that he never spoke of his younger 

Arthur, the only son of the Deacon's only brother, had lived 
with him and was his only relative that any one knevv of. He 
was a manly, well brought up young man, and his Uncle's heart 
swelled with pride as he looked upon bis Nephew. 

"Arthur, I sent for you because I want to talk to you. You 
have finished school now, and are old enough to form some plans 
for life. You have made a good record at college, and I am 
glad to see you develop into an honorable gentleman. Your 
father was a man. Side by side we followed Lee to the Wilder- 
ness, then we parted, he to a soldier's grave. Alone I wandered 
home to build up a broken fortune. You never saw vour father, 
and remember nothing of your mother. You resemble your 
father in many respects, and the indications are that you will 
bring honor to his name. We have understood each other and 
you have known and honored my wishes all along, and I am 
fond of you. What have you to say for yourself?" 

"I appreciate all that you have said concerning me, Uncle, 
and as to plans, you know I have always wanted to be a farmer. 


I love the farm. You have said the plantation would be mine, 
and I was to remain here." 

"You are right. Arthur, the plantation is to be yours. I 
have ssid nothing about a will, but I have made one this sum- 
mer — here ii is, j'ou may read it. There are some conditions in 
it, and it is best for you to know them, altho' they are the same 
as I told you some years ago," 

Artluir picked up the will and read it through. 

"Unc'e, may I ask you who drew up this will?" 

"Certainly, it was drawn up by Mr. Rayford, the brilliant 
young lawyer that located in town last spring. You will know 
him soon, he seems to be an excellent young man." 

Arthur's face clouded a little as he replied: 

"I know him sufficiently well now. Yes, seemingly, he is 
a good fellow but " 

"Oh, you college men aro so jealous; but I suppose that it 
is natural." 

"Now, Uncle, this condition that says that if I make love 
to or engage myself to an3- one before I am twenty-five years of 
age this will becomes null and void, seems to me to be a little 
hard on a fello7vf." 

The Deacon turned and looked at Arthur with a stern face. 
He did not like to be opposed. 

"Was that not the understanding between us all along?" 

"Yes, sir, and I have honored your wish." 

"Mr. Rayford told me he thought it a very wise provision. 
He believes just as I do, that many a useful life has been ruined 
by a hasty marriage. It is something a young man should not 
think about before he is well matured, and is capable of good 

"I have no doubt that Mr. Rayford has good reasons for agree- 
ing with you. I am nearly of age and have finished school, so 
to me it seems to be a little hard; but at any rate I have no idea 
of going against your wish." 

""Vv'hen > ou are older and experienced as I am you will un- 
derstand. As you say, you will be of age in the fall. I am not 
so strong now, and the care of the plantation weighs heavy upon 


me. I am going to shift some of the load to your strong shoul- 
ders. You will want something to keep you out of mischief. Eh! 
my boy?" 

"It's just what I was going to propose, Uncle; nothing 
would please me better." 

"Well, come," said the deacon, and he led the way out on 
the lawn, and there, pawing at the hitch post, was a beautiful 
black horse, saddled and bridled. "There he is, he is yours. 
Kentucky never had a better animal." 

"Uncle, you are too good to me." 

"Yes, it is one of my failings. Mount him and try his 

Arthur went up to the horse and patted hiai on the neck, 
and the horse in turn rubbed his nose against his breast, 

"There, you'll be good friend??," said the Deacon, as Arthur 
rode /away. The negroes greeted him with cheers as he rode 
through the quarters out into the fields. He was popular with 
fill the hands. As Chsrlie bore him swiftly along ever passing 
familiar scenes and haunts, his heart swelled with the old time 
freedom; for he had been shut up in school and lecture rooms 
for years. Now that he was back and free once raore he forgot 
the elm lined ways and ivy-covered walls of the University cam- 
pus. He saw only the willow-lined brook and moss covered 
mill. He was a boy once more, wading the shallows, a, id pall- 
ing the wily bass from his crystal palace among the rock:?. So 
it was not strange that he pulled Charlie into the way that led 
over to Mossbank, the home of Coloijel Morriston, the owner of 
the adjoining plantation. For had not he and I^ouise Morriston 
galloped and romped over every foot of both plantations? He made 
a picture good to look upon as he clashed up the avenue, clad in 
a brown flannel shirt and sombrero hat. He found the Colonel 
and Louise sitting on the wide veranda looking over the mail 
that Uncle Neb had just brought from town. Both faces lit up 
ftt sight of Arthur. His cheery good nature made him a welcome 
guest every where . 

"Go bring Betty, Uncle Neb, Miss Louise is going for a 
ride," said Arthur, as he dismounted. 


"How do you know, sir?" asked Louise. 

"Because you never refused when we were little, and we are 
going to be children again this afternoon." 

"Yes; well hurry. Uncle Neb, I'll be ready," said Louise 
as she ran into the house. 

"Sit down there, my boy, I want to look at you, 'tis good to 
have you back again. So you have been trying to make your- 
self famous at the University, sic down and tell me about it." 

"Now, Colonel, you want to flatter. Let's change the sub- 
ject. I'm a farmer. Let's talk about cotton, corn and " 

"So the University hasn't turned your head? I knew that 
you were solid. Yoa can find uo more honorable or profitable 
vocation, Arthur. The Deacon is a lucky fellow to have those 
strong sbouiders to shift his load of care upon. The load grows 
heavy with the years." 

Arthur saw that c ir-^ was telling on the Colonel, and it was 
evident tha? something was weighing heavy on his mind. 

Uncie Neb came leading Betty. Louise came out, and 
together they rode at a brisk pace down the avenue, Louise with 
her brown curls flying from under her dainty riding cap. Two 
more graceful riders never mounted horse. A.S the sound of 
their laughter echoed up the avenue the Colonel smiled, then 
looked serious. 

"Heab, dat boy been in de U'versity dese fo years, an he 
jes a boy >et. I b'lieves dey always gwine be chilun." 

"I hope so. Neb, ii is not necessary to get old." 

As Arthur and Louise turned into the road that led along 
the bluffs, tbey met a gentleman driving a dashing team. Louise 
stopped, and after speaking to him, said: 

"Mr. Rayford, this is my friend, Mr. Arthur Gray, just 
back from the University. The man who saved the day for the 
Eleven, you know." 

Why, yes, glad to know you, Mr. Gray. I have heard ot 

"So h-ve I beard of you. I think that you were pointed 
out to me once when you were the center of an interested 


"Ah! You should have been introduced." 

"It happened that introductions were not in order at the 

Rayford cast a keen look at Arthur. 

"You will find papa at home, Mr. Rayford," said I,ouise, 
as they parted. 

"So you know him, Arthur? He is a very pleasant gentle- 
man and comes out often. I think that he is managing some 
business for papa. Ever}'' one saems to li^e him." 

"Yes, I know of him. Which way?" 

"To the fields," said Louise, and a^vay they went, the 
horses catching the spirit of the riders. They were children 
again as they went through the familiar lanes of waving corn, 
over the bridge, around through the maples, back by the old 
spring under the beaches on the cliff, and rode home in the 
golden^^splendour of a summer evening. For the fir.^t time 
Arthur felt the tightness of the band that held him. Whan tLiey 
came back they found Rayford and the Colonel in earnest con- 

As Arthur was going out he met Uncle Neb at the big g'^.te, 
who greeted him with a broad smile as he took off his hat from 
his bald head, and said: 

"Looks lack ole times see'n you an' de young Missus dis 
ebenin'. I's feelin' mo' ea^y naw dat you is back. I tell you, 
Mars Arthur, I don' lack dis ntw gemmen up heah," he said, 
pointing to Rayford's team. "I'se been hea'i a long time, and 
used ter know all de gemmea ob quality what come out hear from 
Richmond, an' all around. I tell you good blood always shows. 
Naw dey is one thing sho', dis man ain't no gemm -n, or old 
Nebuchedneezer am bad fooled." 

"I have great confidence in your judgment. Uncle Neb." 

"Yes sah, I knows. Den 'nuder thing I do'ne lack is, he's 
makin' his sef mighty 'spickus round hear, an' payin' powerful 
lot ob 'tention to Miss Louise; but what makes me feel uneasy 
is, 'pear lack somfin' isworr'in' de Colonel's mine." 

"Well keep your eyes open, Uncle Neb, and if any thing 
gees wrong let me know at once." 

"Dat I will. Mars Arthur." 


Arthur rode home somewhat troubled in mind. He foresaw 
troublesome clouds gathering over the peaceful home on the 
bluffs, and his manly spirit swelled as he felt the band that held 
him from interfering, "I'll stand by my obligations and prom- 
ises, but if a crisis comes, and it involves my future welfare and 
happiness, then justice must prevail," was the thought in his 
mind. Arthur was not of a rash or impulsive nature; he acted 
only after careful deliberation, and having once reached a 
decision, he was firm as granite until he was convinced of his 

Summer blended into autumn. Arthur v.^as busy with the 
harvest, and the plantation felt a master's hand. He was 
avoided by Frank Ray ford, who seemed to have a good deal of 
business with both the Colonel and the Deacon. Arthur kept a 
keen and observant eve. So long as he had no proof of any 
underhanded work, he was silent. 

Uncle Neb shook hi.^ head, as he opened the gate for lyouise 
and Rayford as Ihey were going for a drive. 

"Dis bear business gwine come to a pint fo long. I don 
lack de way de Colonel is actin' rouu heah. He is lookin' older 
ebery dav," he said to himself as they disappeared down the 
riverside drive. 

They turned into a shaded by-way and Rayford drew the 
horses up to a slow walk, and dropped the lines. He was a 
brilliant young man, and his eloquent flow of language had 
thrilled audiences large and small. He had traveled far and 
wide. The fact is, he had never remained in any one place very 
long. He could appreciate the beautiful and the grand, and 
could make others enjoy it with him. On this occasion he was 
bringing all of his powers into play, and I^ouise was thoroughly 
enjoying the drive. 

"But Ah! Miss Morriston, all these beauties of Nature 
which surrounds your home fade and lose their power to charm 
when you, their queen, is sitting by my side." 

"There, you have made a pretty little speech; but it is all 
flattery. Yes, I am a queen and this Nature is my realm; 
these hills and rocks are my temples and palaces; these birds 


and squirrels are my subjects; but a good queen would rather 
hear them praised than herself, so please return to the former 

Rayford was baffled. He bit his lip in confusion. Many a 
reigning beauty had he swayed with his eloquent flattery; but 
he realized that Louise Morriston was not to be affected by it, 
and that he had only lost thereby. 

"I do not flatter. I may flatter some; but you I can not. 
lyouise, I love you." 

"Now that it has come to this, I am sorry ; I have given 
you no encouragement." 

"No, you have given me none. That's why I now speak. 
I am not poor. 1 can make you happy. I^ouise, will you be 
my wife?" 

"I like you as a friend, but love you I do not, and to be 
your wife, it can never be. The' you be ever so wealthy, happi- 
ness you can never buy." 

"No, don't give me your final answer. Give me time. 
You will love me yet." 

Autumn lengthened into winter. The Deacon wanted 
Arthur to go south on some business that would require a 
lengthy stay; but for sufiicient reasons of his own he refused to 
go. Rayford came more frequent, and seeing that his suit was 
hopeless he was more determined than ever to win by any means 
— fair or foul. The Colonel seemed faiimg fast. It was evident 
that something was wrong. Arthur grew more suspicious. 
One day Rayford and the Colonel were stiut up in the library tor 
an unusually long time, and after Rayford had gone the Colonel 
summoned lyouise. She came, and seeing him looki;ig so care- 
worn and weary, she went and sat down on the arm of his chair, 
put her arms around his neck and kissed him. 

"There, sit down there, Lou," for he always called her by 
that name, "I want to talk to you about a serious matter. You 
are all that I have. I am growing old. You have no mother, 
and will be left alone some day. I don't know how soon. I 
want to see you well provided for. You are old enough to look 
at life seriously now. Mr. Rayford is a good man, and he loves 


you, Ivou. I would like to see you married. What do you 

"Papa, I have tried to be a loving, dutiful daughter. I 
have tried to comply with all of your wishes; but to marry Mr. 
Bay ford, I can never do, and I have told him the same." 

"Suppose that I should say that you must. Surely you find 
no fault with him?" 

"No, I find none; but marry him I can not." 

"Ivou, we have no cause to be ashamed of our ancestors* 
You have an honorable and spotless name. Now, suppose I 
tell you that it involves my honor." 

"What do you mean, papa?" said lyouise, looking at the 
Colonel in wonder. 

"I can't explain. You would not understand; but I have 
made a great mistake. If you do not marry Mr. Rayford, I am 
a ruined man." 

"Father, you have let him get you in his power. Why did 
I not see it?" said Louise, standing indignant. "Papa, give me 
more time. It's so sudden. How can I — " She sat down, 

"There, Lou, don't cry. We'll talk about it another 
time. It will be all right." 

A few days later the Colonel and Rayford had a stormy 
interview, and when Rayford had gone L^ncle Neb went in 
search of Arthur. 

"Mars Arthur, dis thing done come to a pint. Dat man bin 
over dar raisin' all manner ob a racket dis mornin'. Young 
Missus bin cryin', and when he lef he say semfin bout offsers, 
and turnin' de Colonel ober ter de law. He say dat he wus 
comin' back termorrow for a final answer ter somefin." 

"The crisis has come," said Arthur to himself. "Very 
well, Uncle Neb, you did right in telling me. I'll meet Mr. 
Rayford at the Colonels in the morning. You be ready to go to 
town. I may want to send a letter. In the meantime say noth- 
ing to any one about the matter." 

"You kin trus me. Mars Arthur," said Uncle Neb, as he 
turned away chuckling to himself, "He gwin show 'em a 
thing or two, see if he don't." 


Next morning Arthur asked to see the Deacon in the lib- 
rary, and when they were seated he said: 

"Uncle Silas, I am under great obligations to you. I love 
you, not only as an uncle but as a father. I have tried to do"at 
all times as you wished me to, and now for the first time I 
must oppose you. It may cost me all, but my mind is made up. 
I am a man now and should be so treated. I ask you to release 
me of that marringe obligation in the will, or else I must break 
it. I have kept it faithful; but now I must speak out." 

"You, Arthur Gray, proving false. You are no Gray. Havel 
beenr deceived in you? You whom I have been proud of, and the 
whole surrounding country as well. You prove false to your 
obligations, and you leave this roof." 

The Deacon was wild with rage. 

"Uncle I have counted the cash. I'll go; but hear and 
answer this. Did not Frank Rayford suggest to you to send me 
away for awhile?" 

"That has nothing to do with it, sir." 

"Well, I'll take it for a fact that he did. He is a slick 
tongued scoundrel, and I'll prove it. He has tried to get you 
and Col. Morriston in his power. I don't know how far he has 
succeeded. There has been some underhanded work. I am 
going to meet him at Colonel Morriston's house this morning. 
My future wellfare and happiness is at stake. I mean to ask 
lyouise to mary me. The time has come for me to assert my- 
self. Love is stronger than obligation." 

"Then you leave this roof, and mind you, when you come 
to your senses in a far country, remember that I have no sym- 
pathy for a prodigal." 

"Very well, you will allow me to come for my few personal 
belongings will you not?" 

"Yes, for they are not wanted here." 

Arthur was gone. The Deacon sat down dazed and be- 
wildered, not knowing half that had been said. 

Going over to Mossbank, Arthur met Louise in the hall. 

"Louise, there is something wrong. I have been suspect- 
ing it for sometime. Now I know it from your expression. 


I^ouise have you promised to marry Frank Rayford?" 

"No, Arthur, bat I must. 

"lyisten, Ivouise, I have been silent because I was bound, 
but I have broken my bands. I am free but penniless and 
homeless; but I am a man with hope and courage. I want to 
tell you something that I have longed to tell before, but could 
not. You know I could not hide it. Louise — I love you. I 
have loved you from childhood. We were intended for each 
other. Will you marry me?" 

"I have waited long, Arthur. I have always loved you," 

"I knew that you were true." He kissed her and said: 
"Where are they?" 

"In the library. Do nothing rash, Arthur. I am glad you 
came. Somehow I felt that you would come in time." 

"Come, you have a right to go." 

Together without warning they entered the library. The 
Colonel was sitiing, and Rayford was standing before him. 

"Sit down there, Frank Rayford, and mind that you speak 
not a word unless you are bidden," said Arthur in a voice that 
rang with authority. 

Rayford being so taken by surprise, and not knowing what 
to say or do, sack into a chair. 

"Col. Morriston, this man by his crafty villany has made 
you think that he has you in his power. I have known him 
before, although he has not known it. The last time I saw 
him before last summer he was in the charge of two policemen, 
arrested for swindling. He bought himself out and escaping 
punishment, came down here to play the 'Carpet Bagger' 
where he thought no one would ever recognize him. Ansvver 
me this. How much has he swindled you out of? How much 
have you let him have?" 

The Colonel named quite a large sum, and Arthur wrote 
out a check for the amount, and turned to Rayford and said: 

"Frank Rayford, sign this." 

Raylord catching the fire in his eye, the determination on 
his face, and the quiver of his strong muscles, cowered before 
him like a dog before his master. He picked up the pen and 


signed the check. Arthur wrote an order to the bank to place the 
amount to the Colonel's credit. Eaclosed it in an envelope, 
went to the door and called Uncle Neb, who was waiting 

"Now Uncle Neb take this to the bank at once. You will 
find my horse on the lawn." 

Then going back to the table he wrote a statement saying 
that Ray ford had deceived and acted the lie to the Colonel, and 
made apologies. Then said to Ravford. 

"Now sign this, and leave this place, and be glad that you 
are in the presence of a lady, and on that account a sound 
thrashing is out of order, and thank your good fortune that you 
are not turned over to the law. I don't think it would be ad- 
visable for you to remain in Virginia. You may go. I don't 
suppose that it is necessary to say good morning." 

Like all whipped scoundrels, Rayford left the house in 

"Now Colonel, I ask you for your daughter. I am not 
worth a cent. I have not even a home; but I think that I can 
take care of her." 

"You seem to be master of the occasion,' and the Colon- 
el's eye sparkled as it had not done for many a day. Take her 
boy, you deserve her. Nothing could make me happier." 
^ '^ "Arthur explained all to them. Then the Colonel took the 
hand of Louise and placed it in Arthur's, and said she comes to 
you neither empty handed nor homeless. You have a father's 

Arthur and Louise were married in the little chapel on th» 
hill, and the day after he said to her. 

"I am going over to Elmwood to get my few possessions^ 
it m^y be my last visit to the old home. Come, I want you to 
go with me." 

Together they went and found the Deacon sitting alone 
looking so careworn that Louise went up to him and threw her 
arms around his neck, and said. "Uncle Silas, I have always 
wanted to caU you uncle because Arthur did. Now I can. 
There you look so tired," and she kissed him on the forehead. 


"I am going to love you whether you want me to or not. The 
Deacon began to feel for his handkerchief and blow his nose. 

"Say, Arthur, I guess you better let those things stay here. 
I've been a fool. Blmwood was built for a bride, and she has 
come. I'll send to Richmond for workmen and decorators who 
will make it a place worthy of her. You are a lucky dog," and 
he slapped Arthur on the shoulder. 

When he was told of how Arthur had managed Rayford he 
said : 

"Just like the boy, I should have been there to give the 
rascal a sound thrashing." 

Elmwood is a home to be coveted. In it its Mistress 
reigns supreme and its master is kown and felt far and wide. 

The Deacon and the Colonel sit under the elms in the 
shades of the summer evenings, smoke their pipes, talk of the 
good old days that are gone, and view the sunset, flooding the 
broad river with gold as it flows on to the sea. 




Did you ever sit dreaming of days long gone by, 
While you sat in your room in the fire's dim glow? 

Well to-night I sit thus and the embers all die, 
As I wander back there in the days long ago. 

A tiny blaze flickers and then it dies down. 

Yet the embers all glow like the star's feeble light. 

When the sun having made his long journey around. 
Has wrapped all the world in the darkness of night. 

I sit herein silence and watch the bright embers, 

'Tis in them I see now a cool shady glen, 
I wonder if now she this dear spot remembers, 

And the long happy days that we spent in there then! 

The brooklet down there used to run, O so clear, 
O'er that moss covered root of the big willow tree, 

And the ferns seemed to nod when my sweetheart was near, 
As we picked the wild rose on the edge of the lea. 

It seems I can see now that fern-covered brink. 

With those dear little prints of ht-r feet in the sand. 

And iier dear little form as she kneels down to drink. 
While I tenderly hold to her little white hand. 

One day she told me that my sweetheart she'd be, 

And we vowed with our hands on our hearts not to tell; 

And I kissed her right there in the shade of that tree. 
Where no one could see; for twas dark in the dell. 

Could I ever forget those dear days of my childhood, 
The purest, the sweetest, the brightest ot life. 

Or my dear little sweetheart who played in the wildwood, 
Who now sits so near me? We kiss, she's my wife. 

C. A. A.— 03. 





I " "- ^^ 


Published Monthly by the Students of Mills"ps Colleg-e 

W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief 

Lamar EasterIvING, Associate Editor 

F. D. Mellen, Alumni Editor 

D. L. Bingham, Local Editor. 

JOS. H. Penix, Literary Editor. 

H. V. Watkins, Athletic Editor. 

F. E. GuNTER, Business anager 

W. C. Bowman, M. S. Pitxman Assistants 

Remittances mid business communications should be sent to F. E. 
Gunte7', Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be sent 
to TV. F. Cook, Editor- in- Chief. 


Subscriptiou Per annum $1.00. Two Copies $1.S0. Per Annum 


To an American citizen there is nothing 
THE PRESIDENT more sacred than is the office of Chief Magis- 
AND THE PEO- trate, the position held by the President of the 
PLh. United States. It is a holy eminence pre- 

pared lor his most deserving child; a hallowed 
seat around which hovers justice, truth, and honor; its entity is 
crjstal purity; encircling it is a halo of God-given freedom; 
illuminating it is mighty beams of the Sun of righteousness. 
What wonder then that an indignant clamor should rise from 
every section of the Union when the favorite child proves un- 
worthy of the trust? 

When Mr. Roosevelt became President of the United States 
the people of the whole Union, both north as well as south, be- 
lieved that he was a man honest in his convictions and fearless 
and determined in his efforts to execute them. The Republicans 
believed that, since he was elected to the Vice- Presidency oa 
their ticket, he would regard the party policy and promote, so 
far as was consistent with the interests of the whole country, the 
party interests. The South believed that, true to his Southern 


blood, he would not only regard her industrial and commercial 
interests but, what means more to her than all others combined, 
her social interests. She believed that this strong man would 
lend his best efforts to preserve the integrity of the blood that 
courses in his own veins. He has proven false to both north and 
south alike, 

It is evident that the Republican party, whose support is 
principally in the North, as a whole, no longer considers the 
right to vote an inalienable one; but they now consider it a re- 
ward of merit. They believe that not as a free gift but as a hard- 
earned privilege will it be properly appreciated by any race or 
worthy of the consideration of any people. They agree with all 
wise Southern men that the act of the republican party in 
giving the negro the ballot was one of rashness, consum- 
mated in a most bitter and pansionate moment, and that it has 
proven a failure. The very fact that so great and universal a 
protest has gone up fron the Northern people as well as from the 
Southern people against inviting negroes to the White House to 
take part in the social functions is conclusive proof of the 
changed attitude of the Republican party and the entire North. 
Negroes have been invited by every Northern president since 
the Civil Wsr and have been present at social gatherings at the 
White House, and yet no such indignant protest has been made 
before. Why then should the Northern people protest against 
Mr. Roosevelt's negro policy when his Nurihem predecessors 
have done likewise? Simply because the sentiaient of the North- 
ern people, as embodied in the policy of their party, has 
changed. The tenets of the Republican party a: one time, car- 
ried to their logical consequences, w uld have rata-it the abso- 
lute political ad social equality of the negro and ihe white man. 
The Northern people, as a whole, believed that the negro was 
inherently the white man's equal and that all he needed to enable 
him to cope with the white man in every department of life was 
similar conditions, conditions which were equally fair to both 
races, afforded equal opportunities for both. Since the support of 
the party believed this and aimed at the establishment of social 
equality between the two races, the president, whom they elected, 


was expected to do all in his power to bring it to pass. The in- 
vitation then to the negroes to attend social functions came inci- 
dentally and their presence was only a shadow, though a very 
black one, compared with the reality that would exist when so- 
cial equality, with all that the term conveys, should be estab- 
lished. The Northern people, as supporters of the party plat- 
form, promulgators of the party principles, accepted the prelim- 
inaries that led up to the consummation of those principles as 
not only natural but inevitable. Now that not only the social 
but even the political equality of the two races is acknowledged 
to be an impossibility by the Northern people in general, and the 
Republican party leaders in particular, we think that Mr. Roose- 
velt has proven traitor to his own party. The invitation that 
summonsed the negro to the White House also summonsed the 
Democratic pariy to to the rescue of race integrity. The negroe's 
presence as a participant in the social functions at the White 
House is undoubtedly the "passing bell" of the Republican 
party; and the jingle of his bango within its sacred walls its fu- 
neral dirge. 

The South declares that he has proven false to her because 
he has attempted to renew the race prejudice in the South. He 
has attempted to do in times of peace and good feeling what the 
North attempted to do in the moment of passion and prejudice. 
The carpet'bagger was the split reed through which a nation's 
blind discord pealed, he is both reed aud enraged piper. He 
has not idjured the white man alone, he has injured the negro. 
The majority of the Southern people act conscientiously in their 
dealings with the negro. They would have them develop those 
virtues by which alone a race may become capable of self-gov- 
ernment. Whatever may be the process employed for this de- 
velopment they will aid them for their own and the negroe's in- 
terests, for so long as the negro is in the South his interests will 
be identical with the Southern white man's. The negroes be- 
lieve this, dnd believing it, are contented, as a whole, with the 
existing conditions. As soon, however as one negro is elevated 
to the level of the white man, the entire race will aspire to like 
prominence and fatal discontent will result. No matter how 


W'-U equipped a negro may be for filling a government position 
in the South, a white man equally as well equipped should be 
given the preference even though he be a democrat, because the 
entire negro race will conclude that they too are worthy of the 
office, and demand that their worthiness be rewarded. All ne- 
gro s are believed to be equal, by the negroes themselves, and 
what one does or is permitted to do is license sufficient for every 
m«-mber of the race to do likewise. We have already learned of 
H T umbei^of degroes who have entered the parlors or private 
r oms of white citilens, referring to the Booker Washiagton- 
R osevelteposide as latest authority on the social attitude of the 
tvA o races. Appetites are thus created in the negro that cannot 
be satisfied by the food that is placed on his table but which 
drives him to raid the white man's store. It further widens the 
gulf made between the two races made by Northern fanatics by 
creating a sentiment against the education of the negro. No 
more powerful though demagogic appeal can ba made to a great 
number of white people than that to remove all aid from the ne- 
gro and allow him to furnish all his educating funds. A refer- 
ence to the attempt Mr. Roosevelt has made towards the estab- 
lishment of social equality will win many a vote for the dema- 
g( gue in local as well as national politics in the South. On the 
other hand, once the negro feels that the South cares nothing for 
his interests he will no longer feel under obligations to him and 
estrangement will inevitably result. 

This problem is peculiar to the Siuth just as the labor prob- 
lem is peculiar to the North. The South cannot solve the 
North's problem because she is not familiar enough with the 
questions involved. The North cannot solve the South's, be- 
cause she is not familiar with the conditions, and because she 
has not read the Bible from the South's point of view. You can 
afford to proclaim that a certain line of action is right when at 
the end of the line is a bucket of goodies for you. Your line 
becomes brighter and biighcer, no doubt, as you draw nearer the 
end, just as the rainbow looks more and more beautiful to the 
happy boy who confidently expects to find the bucket of gold 
awaiting him at the end. It is very convenient for the dema- 


gogue to find congenial virtues in the blackest negro for the 
whitest white man when the finding finds an office. Some Re- 
publicans, for instance, would find very little difficulty in con- 
vincing themselves that the negro is good enough to be asked by 
the white women of the South for their mail if the negro be- 
comes sufficiently intoxicated with the privilege to cast a Repub- 
lican vote. 

There is but one solution to the negro problem, namely, the 
one the South secures. Why? Because knowledge, not ignor- 
ance, is the motive power of the social brain; and profoundest 
life-interest, the instinct of self-preservation, is a more powerful 
incentive than assumed ethical interest. The South has worn 
this problem as a badge of enforced degradation; she has accept- 
ed it as the outcome of causes most natural and unavoidable. 
She will continue to wear it, as did Hester Prynne the scarlet 
letter "A," until the days of her probation have passed and 
time, with his strong mind and sympathetic heart, has solved it. 
There is no need for Mr Roosevelt to point mockingly at it; she 
already realizes its enormity. She knows that it is the shameful 
ful leprosy spot which threatens her life. She is horrified when 
she looks down upon it eating into her bodv, silently creeping 
into the very marrow of her bones. S le shudders at the sight 
of the awful diseas ! But she is determined that no man, 
though he be the favorite child of a natirm, shall transmit a lep- 
rosy spot of her political body to her immortal soul. She lifts 
her face heavenward and hopes for a new political body; 
she knows that the soul which she has rauat alwavs be hers. 



The Emory and Henry Era is still keeping its high place 
among the college journals. Whenever we want good poems 
and interesting and romantic stories, we have but to turn to the 
Era, There is always an abundance of poetry — real poetr}' — 


to be found in it, even when the pages of many journals are bare 
of verse. In the number before us (February) we find much 
that is interesting and readable, and much that is deserving of 
praise, on account of its intellectual worth. Tae Literary 
Department is well represented, containing four stories, seven 
poems, an essay, and a humorous sketch. "Merely an Incident" 
is the story of an event of the Franco- Prussian war in which a 
little maid plays a very important part without knowing it. The 
childish innocence and trustfulness add a pithetic interest to 
the spy's venture. "R. K " is another interestiug and unpre- 
tentious story, simply told, and hence the more interesting. The 
hero isTDrave and honorable, but it seems that the plot is weak 
in that an investigation of the caves should have been thor- 
oughly made before the trial. Then again it hardly tooks rea- 
sonable that the prisoner would have been convicted on such 
slight circumstantial evidence. "Was It Fate?" is a good, 
strong story with a unique plot. It deals with a moral question 
very effectively, and teaches us to have apurposeinlife, to be truth- 
ful, and honorable. The change in John Kent's character from an 
intended suicide to a noble aim in life — to be of service by filling 
the place left vacant by his dead brother — turnishes a strong 
climax to the story. "A Moral Compromise — Honor Gripped," 
is a strong article, well written, and one that should be read and 
assimilated by all. It forcibly brings before us a truth that is 
only too often unnoticed. In it the writer shows that a person, 
though strong and averse to dishonesty of an> kind at first, may, 
by "moral compromises" of his honor in respect to little things, 
be led away to crime and villainy. "The Adjective of Emer- 
gency" is a humorous piece of satire on the modern slang, 
which goes to produce that "perfect symmetry of a perfect lan- 
guage" The examples cited are calculated to excite laughter, 
but they show that the writer has a true insight into the ten- 
dency of the times, as well as a sense of appreciation of the 
humorous and ludicrous. "The Shore of Time," "Fairer 
Flowers," "To Sidney L,anier," "Somewhere" and "The 
Infidel's Cry" are poems of considerable merit and excellence, 
especially the first and second. The Exchange Department is 

20 the; mii^lsaps collegian 

still good. The criticisms abound in bright remarks and orig- 
inality. In this case, evidently the right man is in the right 
place. The Board of Editors are certainly to be congratulated 
on getting out so meritorious a publication. 

As usual, we find much that is interesting and attractive in 
"Ca^ Hendrix College Mirror. The Mirror can always be counted 
on for scholarly essays and breezy and up-to-date editorials — 
strong points in a college periodical. "Pnilosophy and Science 
as Witnesses to Christianity" is aa essay that deals with a theme 
that is of interest to every one. The author handles his subject with 
much skill and force. He goes to show that even in a scientific 
explanatioa of the universe there is need of supernatural events 
to complete the chain of arguments — events that are as miracu- 
lous in their nature as the incarnation of Jesus Christ. The 
point taken is a good one, and the writer argues it with much 
skill and eloquence. "Chaucer and His England" is the title of 
an interesting essay, which opens the doors of the past and 
interprets for us the conditions of Eagland — politically, mor- 
ally, intellectually — at the time when the "Father of English 
Poetry" laid the foundation for English song. The influence he 
exerted on subsequent poets is also pointed out. Such an essay 
holds the attention as well as stimulates the intellect. "Poe's 
Place in American Literature" is another subject pregnant with 
interest, aud one worthy of careful attention and consideration. 
The writer has given us a true and unprejudiced delineation of 
the poet, and of some of his excellencies and admirable quali- 
ties as a writer, together with an estimate of hia shortcomings 
and faults. Poe has never received the praise which he justly 
deserves. The public, while acknowledging his intellectual 
power and poetic genius, has been slow in according to him his 
proper place in the category of American singers. Prejudice, 
we believe, has had much to do with public opinion. The slan- 
ders concerning Poe, which were spread abroad by his chief 
enemy — his first biographer — are largely responsible for the 
popular prejudice against him. As some writer has aptly said, 
the world overlooked the vices of Byron and Burns, and on 


account of their genius placed them on the highest pinnacle of 
fame; but the American people could not forgive the poet who 
harmed no one but himself, who brought sorrow to no home but 
his own, — they could not overlook in him such slight faults and 
honor him as he deserved. Yet they honor Burns and Byron, 
whose vices were far worse and more harmful to others. We are 
glad the movement is on foot to restore this unhappy poet of 
genius to his rightful place in the estimation of his people and to 
the pinnacle of fame which he so richly deserves. "Ideals" 
seems too-short and fragmentary for so broad and comprehensive 
a subject. The one only piece of verse, "A Tragedy in Three 
Acts," which is modeled on Poe's "Raven," merits praise; but 
the last line, "* * * not serve me worth a psalm, ''^ here 
psalm shows lack of reverence, and besides seems forced and 
inappropriate. The editorials of this paper are always breezy, 
pithy, and well written. Dealing as they do with some of the 
vital questions and problems of the day, they merit a careful 
consideration. But the Exchange Department is shorter, we 
think, than it ought to be for so good a publication. 

"The Romance of An Exchange Editor" is the title of a 
very interesting and unique story in the Clionian. The name by 
itself is enough to "catch" the average exchange editor, and to 
guarantee a speedy perusal of it. "The Sonnet as Used by 
Milton" is a good essay and very cleverly treated. The exam- 
ples add much force to the discussion and make it more instruc- 
tive. The poem "Advice to Boys" is good, and should cer- 
tainly be followed. We always enjoy the Exchange Department 
of this magazine. The criticisms are short and bright, but to 
the point. We are sorry that the Ex-ediior was so badly startled 
by a statement in the ColIvEGIAN, especially one made by the 
''local editor." As most exchange editors know, the two chief 
characteristics or local editors are extravagant statements and 
humorous (?), side-splitting (?) jokes. Our editor is only guilty 
of the former. By way of explanation, we will say thai the 
Statement about the "tears as large as goose eggs" was made 


exclusively for the Belhaven girls, because they failed to attend 
a Millsaps society meeting. 

In the Alpha we find a magazine of much merit. There is 
a serious, scholarly tone to this paper that places it among our 
best exchanges. The appearance is neat and unpretentious, but 
the inside is filled with good reading matter. Among many 
other well-written and entertaining skeiches and essays we may 
mention the essay, "Samuel Taylor Coleridge and the Rime of 
the Ancient Mariner." This impressed us as being a well- 
prepared and most enjoyable paper. Coleridge is our favorite 
poet, so all the good things the writer said about him and the 
"Rime" were fuily appreciated by us and heartily seconded. 
The quotations are striking, and beautifully illustrative of the 
points under cousideration. "Pen Pictures" is another cleverly- 
written article, which shows the writer was well acquainted with 
her subject. "New Year" is a good specimen of verse. So is 
the translation, "Palinodia ad Tyndaridem.'-' We would like 
to see the Exchange Department enlarged; what there is of it 
is good. 

The Parker Purple is a semi-monthly from Winnebago, 
Minn. This issue contains a good article, "Ignorance a Volun- 
tary Misfortune, " which is argued in a forcible and logical way. 
"Compulsory Labor Arbitration" is an interesting paper, which 
discusses in a lively manner one of the leading problems of the 
day. The article is continued, but bids fair to give some inter- 
esting reading. Poetry and fiction are entirely wanting; so is 
the Exchange Department. A college paper cannot be complete 
without this department, which keeps its journal in touch with 
oiher college publications. 

The quality of material that fills the pages of the Southwest- 
er7i Univ. Magazine is the very best, both in the depth of thought 
and in the easy and forcible style of expression. The interest 


taken in this journal by the students must be tip-top, judging 
from the quantity of matter that it contains. There is scarcely 
space enough allowed us to call attention to all the articles that 
merit praise and consideration. So we will have to content our- 
selves with a few passing remarks on some of the best. 

"The Inspiration of the Imperfect" is an article well worth 
careful reading and cousideration. It shows much care and 
thoughtfulness in its preparatioo. We would suggest, however, 
that in correcting the proofs, more attention should be given to 
quotation marks, as we observe that they are wanting from the 
three quoted verses in thi above article. In such cases the ab- 
sence of quotation raa'-ks might give rise to unjust suspicion. 
"The Last Court 01 Appeals," is another piece of production of 
rare merit and scholarship. In it ihe writer points out in a mas- 
terly and convincing way the inflaeiice of universities on a nation 
as well as on the individual. "Woman as She Is and Ought to 
Be," "Not Science Oalv" and "The Time Will Come V/ith All 
Its Blights," which, with its pretty passages of description 
serves to break the monotony, are all well prepared and interest- 
ing constituents. As for dep-h of thought and weightyness of 
materia], the So7c hwestern University Magazine cannot be beat- 
en. Its institution m ly well fet-1 proud of so scholarly a publi- 

For want of more spact we c^mtent ourselves by acknowl- 
edging receipt of the loUowiTg much appreciated exchanges: 
College Reflector, Randolph- Macon- Monthly , Arizona Monthly, 
Revielle, Olive aud Blue, Cap and Gown, University of Virginia 
Magazine, Hillman Lesbidelian. Maroon and White. Emory 
Phoenix, Miss- College Magazine, University Unit, T he Jo^iryial, 
Uiiv. of Miss. Magazine, Deaf Mute Voice, Criinso7i a?id Gold, 
Ihe Limestone Star, Tiilane Univ. Magazi?ie, Exponent, Van- 
derbilt Observer, Converse Concept, Bbce and Gold. 


Like silver lay the river with its broad and sunlit reachts, 
As we drifted with the current, she and I. 

How the ripples laughed in answer to the whispers of the 


And how swift, the swooping swallows darted by, 
JHow the meadows seemed to quiver, in the heat acros-> th 
Xike some half-remembered dream of long ago. 

'Twas as if the world lay sleeping, thro' the hours siow 
And ourselves the phantom dreams that come and go 

P. B. M., in MoTning Side 


We three hung the mistletoe. 

Sue and I — and Cupid, 
When the lights were burning low. 
We three hung the mistletoe. 
I begged a kiss. Cupid ivoutdri't go. 

"Why, he's blind, you stupid!" 
We three hung the mistletoe. 

Sue and I — and Cupid. 

L. R. Whipple in Univ. of Va. Magazine 

The leacher asked, "What is space?" 
The trembling Freshman said: 
" I cannot think at present. 

But I have it in my head." — Exchange. 

*• Non paratus," student dixit. 

With a sad and mourrful look; 

" Omnis recte," Prof, responding, 

Scripsit nihil in his book. — Exchange. 

She met him in the darkened hall. 
Said he, "I've brought some roses." 

Her answer seemed irrelevant; 

It was, "How cold your nose is!" — Ex. 


"There is beauty in the ocean; 

There is beauty in the skies; 
There is beauty in misfortune — 

If we know jnst where it lies. 

Classic Greek may show its beauty, 

And Old English it it tries; 
iBut wlien Math, proclaims its beauty — 

Well, I know just where — it lies. 

— Univ. Miss. Magazine. 

■"Twas Catharine Mary once, we guess, 
Though now 'tis Katheryne Mae. 

Styl thys is no one's buysness — 

Yf she lykes yt that wae. — Exchange. 

A college student, in rendering an account of his term's 
•expenses, inserted: "To charity, thirty dollars." His sire 
wrote back: "I iear charity covers a multitude of sins." — College 


JOS, H. PENIX, Editor. 


It seems that Harris Dickson has decided upon a definite 
field for his literary efforts. It would be interesting to know 
why the possibilities of this particular field should have appealed 
to him so strongly as to tempt him to try it a second time. Not, 
however, that it is in any measure barren. On the contrary, it 
is of almost boundless scope and variety. When Mr. Dickson 
chose it in writing his first book, no one could deplore his 
choice; and now, that he uses it as a setting for his second, he 
mnst see in it material which seems especially adapted to his use. 
At the time of which he writes, Louisiana was certainly broad 
«nou^h and wild enough for an abundance of romance and 


romantic action. Coupie with this wildness the exciting scenes 
and times of France, the mother-country, and we have a luxu- 
riance of variety that Certainly leaves the imagination of the 
writer free and unhampered in its representations. 

The Siege of Lady Resolute describes the eventful time when 
Louisiana was being colonized by the French. It deals with the 
life and surroundings in this colony of France, however, only 
incidentally. By far the greater number of the events which it 
records happen in France, There are plenty of duels, Indian 
fights, wars at home and abroad, intrigue in court and out of 
court, castles, aud knightly, daring deeds. How truly it depicts 
the actual state of the times, none but the historian may say, 
but surely in reading it one never tires from lack of adventures, 
and those, too, of various sorts and in most varied causes. 

The book is simply a narrative. There are no abstract 
problems involved, nor are there any sharp delineations of 
character. We learn the deeds of the different men and women 
better than we learn the men and women themselves, for some- 
how their words aud deeds do not enable us to form any definite 
estimate of their individuality. We pity Malcolm and Andrea 
because of their sad fates. We pity Julie and Saint Maurice, 
too, because of thtir early disappointments and misunderstand- 
ings. But before we reach the end we cannot but feel that 
Julie, at least, is somewhat inconsistent. It is not possible that 
love and lack of respect could live in the same heart so long. 
All common sense and experience is to the contrary. Least of 
all, it seems, would this be the case with a strong, independent 
woman like Julie. A siege indeed was the wooing of Saint Mau- 
rice, and never after so long a siege, nor so reluctantly, did any 
besieged city open its gates to a victor as did ''Lady R. solute" 
open her heart to its conqueror. 

The story is, in a sense, ordinary. No abundance of knigh- 
liness and rash courage can ever make up for certain 
higher elements that are wanting. The book is written 
in that high tension of constant conflict of arms and 
undaunted steadfastness of unrequited and unhoping love 
which has come to be considered as rather strained, and has been 


employed in so many instances that the writer who adopts it 
may well be thanklul if he escape the charge of sameness. 
And yet. it is interesting and entertaining. However old such 
tales may be, thongh thev may come to have an interest which 
is not the highest, yet it is an interest that clings to them stead- 
fastly, and always demands and receives a certain degree of 
attention. Its author evidently does not a=pire through it to 
celebrity. _His object is but to tell an engaging tale in a pleasant 
way, and while the novel is in no sense extraordinary, yet it 
cannot justly be regarded as unworthy of a place among the 
books of the day. 


D. L. BINGHAM, Editor. 

Dr. Murrah spent Saturday and Sunday in Memphis. 
Rev. J. A. Bowen of Tupelo, spent two days with Ciwthon 
during the month. 

William Buchanan of Okolona, spent a da/ on the Campus 
a few weeks ago. 

Mr. J. W. Chambers a member of the Junior Class, spent 
several days at home this month. 

R. A. Clark, '00, now pastor of the Methodist church at 
Pontotoc, came out to see us last week 

Mr. F. Roder Smith has withdrawn from school and gone 
to New O-i-leans, where he has entered Tulane. 

E B. Cooper spent Saturday and Sunday at home with 
home foIks(?). He was accompanied by Rob Russ. 

Mr. C. Bowen was on the sick list this month. He had a 
severe attack of L-i Grippe, but is able to be out now. 

Rev. J. M. JuUian, of the North Mississippi Conference, 
spent a few days with his son. Dr. J. M. JuUian, this month. 

Rev. W. T. Boiling, paster of the First Methodist church of 
this city, conducted the opening exercises for us the first of the 


Rev. J. R. Countiss of Oxford, made a visit to clubmates 
^nd friends a few days ago. Mr. Couatiss is one cf our best 
.alumni, and we always welcome him. 

While parcticing in the gymnasium Wednesday afternoon 
William Witty had the misfortune to fall and break his arm. 
He left for his home in Winona as soon as he was able. 

The small pox scare is over and all that is left is a few sore 
;arms which some of the boys wear as a gentle reminder. There 
was only one case and that was very mild, not even sufficient to 
put the patient in bed. 

Rev. W. 1,. Duren, '02, another Millsaps' star, was on the 
Campus last week. He claims that he came to this part of the 
country to attend the prohibition meeting, but there are other 
rumors afloat and, if we read the omens right, we beg to differ 
with the reverend gentleman. 

The prohibition meeting held in the capital city, Tuesday 
Feby. lylh, brought a number of distinguished visitors to the 
College. We are always glad to have visitors. Among the 
number were, Messrs. W. L. Ciifioa, J. M. Wyatt, W. C. 
Chambers, W. W. Wollard, R. N. Agustus and J. A. Duke. 

Bishop Galloway came to chapel last Wednesday and 
made us a most intertsdng talk on some of his observations 
while abroad this past year. This is the first time the Bishop 
has been vviih us this session. He has a great deal to 
do, but he always fiads time to visit Millsaps and we are always 
ready with a hearty welcome. His talk was thoroughly enjoyed 
by all, as .videnccd by the hearty appluase. 

On IdSt Thuisoay evening the marriage of Prof. Bert K. 
Young to Mi^s Es-hcl B. Smith was solemnized in the First 
Methodist c urcn. Milisaps was present almost en masse. Dr. 
Muiraa, lu a sveiuu ana impressive manner, pronounced the 
woruh which made them man and wife. Millsaps extends its 
hear i- : cougratulaiions to the happy couple- They left for 
New O icuu.-i uu he 2:30 train, where they will spend their 
phoney moou, reiurnmg to Jackson on Monday the 2nd of March. 


Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., A\ARCH, 1903. No. 6. ^ 




Heat and light radiations by hot and luminous bodies at the 
earth's surface have been very carefully studied. It is very 
well understood that these radiations are equal in all directions, 
and that the intensity, in any given case, varies inversely as the 
square of the distance. From these facts the following infer- 
ences are drawn; lot. At the earth's surface ether tension is 
equal in sll directions, 2ad. Wbetever this condition of ether 
tension exists the heat and ligbt ridiations will be equal ia all 
diiections. It is further krovn that the suu radiates heat and 
light to the different bodies of the solar system, and that these 
reflect the light back and forch among them^^elves, and that in 
the case of near by bodies, at least, like the earth and moon, 
heat is also reflected and radiated between them. Hence we 
know that ether, in a state of high tension, extends from body 
to body in the solar system. Moreover, we know that the suns 
and nebulae of the universe exchange light radiations with our 
own great sun; hence the ether extends out from our sun in 
millions of definitely marked directions to the most distant of 
those bodies, and so we may safely conclude that the ether ex- 
tends from body to body throughout the universe. If we con- 
fine ourselves to tbe facts, it seems I have now stated the extent 
of our knowledge as to ihe distributioa of the ether. Yet it is 
very generally assumed by scientiffc writers that the ether fills 

* This articla was contributed by Dr. J. A. Moure, Professor of 
Mathematics and Astronomy, at the request of the class in Astronomy. 


all space. I suppose tbey regard It as analogous to a free at- 
mosphere or free gases which tend to indefiaite diffusion. But 
is this assumption reasonable ? Is not the most marked property 
of the ether high tension, and in all other cases are not 
high tension and indefinite diffusion incompatible ? Are 
we not then, by this consideration alone, driven to the con- 
clusion that the ether is precisely and definitely limited? To 
secure high tension for rapid transverse vibrations we choose a 
tenacious substance in an attenuated form, we stretch it tight 
and fasten the ends securely. In this way stringed instruments 
of music are made. May not the high tension of the ether be- 
tween the sun and the planets be maintained in a similar way ? 

I come now to the direct question of the radiation of heat 
and light by the sun. Heat is a mode of force. Ordinary me- 
chanical force is convertible into heat and heat into ordinary 
mechanical force. The mechanical equivalent of heat has been 
carefully determined. With reference to the sun's heat at the 
earth when expressed as energy, it has been learned by careful 
experiments that each square meter with the sun shining verti- 
cally receives about one and three-quarters horse-power, Heat 
then is energy and has a rate of woiking. Now it is well kuown 
that mechanical energy cannot be exerted except against resis- 
tance, work cannot be done where there is none to be done. 
Hence I infer that heat has corresponding limitations. Of 
course it is claimed that this resistance is met with in the un- 
bounded fields of ether, but ether lying bsyond the bounds of 
the universe of heavenly bodies, it me, would have no 
tension and so would cff-r no resistance. A distinguished 
writer speaks of only a minute fraction of solar radiation ever 
reaching a resting place . My theory is that heat never sets off 
towa-ds a resting place, that it never leaves the home factory 
except when on its way to a working place and then it moves in 
a bee line at the very industrious speed of 186,000 miles per 
second, and upon its arrival at its destination, it puts in its licks 
faster and harder than any steam-hammer ever invented. 

Moreover, the usual theory concerning the sun's radiation 
of heat leads inevitably to estimates of the output of solar en- 


ergy far beyond the reach of acceptance, so long as nothing 
lies back of these estimates except unproved assumptions. The 
estimate of the solar ladiatiou at the sun's surface, based upon 
this theory, is one hundred and thirty thousand horse-power 
continuously for each square meter of the sun's surface, and the 
earth's share of this is about two-and-one sixth-billionths part. 
I do not believe that there is such an enormously great output 
of energy at the surface of thdsun, and in what I have written 
above, I have taken the simplest and most straight-forward way 
of avoiding this conclusion, that is to say, I have denied the 
unproved assumption which leads with mathematical certainty 
to such a preposterous conclusion. 

It is well for us to remember that this is a matter in which 
mere appearances may mislead us. The fact that we see the 
sun as a great globs with every part ot its surface intensely 
luminous does not necessarily show that it radiates light and 
heat equally in all directions. It only shows that the earth re- 
ceives light and heat from every part of the snn. That there are 
zones of the sun's surface subject to special disturbance and in- 
tense activity, that these zones do not extend in directions unre- 
lated to the position of the bodies in the solar system as though 
this activity were not specially for the benefit of this system, 
and that this sunspot activity is responded to promptly and 
persistently at the earth by magnetic disturbances, are facts now 
well established. These, and many similar facts, ought, it 
seems to me, to be taken into account in any theory of solar 
radiation. The true theory will exhibit the solar system well- 
ordered and well-adjusted in all its parts, its beneficent ener- 
gies combining large profusion with necessary economy, in a 
word, it will show that "the Lord by wisdom hath founded the 
earth; by understanding hath he established the heavens." 



The comic element found its way even into the Miracle 
plays. Indeed it formed a distinct part in these plays. The 
Devil was generally the comedian and afforded much amuse- 
ment for the audience. 

On account of the prevailing custom of having court clowns, 
fools and dancers, these parts were very well acted. Indeed the 
professional comedians proved quite a hindrance lo the develop- 
ment of comedy as an art. 

The earlier playwrights wrote comedies of life; and charac- 
ters or manners furnished the comic parts. Many humorous 
passages are found in the rtligious plays. A passage from 
"Noah and the Flood" is illustrative of this. 

Noah's wife has, previous to the completion of the ark, de- 
clared repeatedly that she will not go into it. The ark is com- 
pleted; all has been done as God commanded; Noiii and his 
children have entered, when Noah's wife flitly reluses to enter 
and flees to the top of the hill where she sits and and spins until 
the water rises so high she is afraid and rushes into the ark. 
Noah immediately gives her a clubbing to quejl her rebellious 
spirit, and she answers by calling him bard names. This is a 
scene of the broadest kind of humor. Many like these are found 
in the Miracle plays. 

These early writers associated nature and life closely; hence 
most of their comic scenes, while crude and rough, are pure. 
Even when the Miracle plays gave way to the Moralities 
the comic element was the most prominent, it ap- 
pealed more strongly to the audiences and as a consf quence the 
playwrights catered to ihem, thus making the comic very prom- 

In the several encounters of Robin Hood with the 
Knight, the Friar and the Potter, the boastful language used by 
them in reference to the capture of Robin Hood sounds rather 


comical when each in turn is subdued and taken by Robin Hood 
himself. Robin and his fellows are a set of jolly lawless men, 
ready for anything that will give adventure and excitement. 

In the "Oxfordshire Play'" the first of the "St. George 
Plays," the songs and jigs add much to the otherwise very mo- 
notonous play. The Merry Morris-Men furnish the dancing. 
Old Dr. Ball is-comical in his conversation and witty repartee. 

In the "IvUtterworth Christmas Play," we meet the clown 
for the first time. Under that assumed name is recognized the 
Devil of the Miracle plays and what the French call Vice in 
their Morality plays. He filled the same place then that he 
does now, that of mirth-maker and jester. He says: 

"My head is great, my wit is small, 
I'll do my best to please you all." 

In this play, too, song contributes part of the fun. The 
"Reversby Sword Play" is rife with wit and humor. The 
Fool is the principal actor, who with his quick wit and 
ready answers, keeps all in an uproar of merriment. This 
merry Fool, even when ab >ut to be killed, cannot refrain from 

Comedy then begins to detach itself from the more serious 
Miracle plays and Morality plays. The times, not ready tor the 
more highly developed drama, clamored for comedy. 

As a sort of intermediary stage between the "St. George 
Plays" and the real comedy is the humorous dialogue, "The 
Four P's." The characters are a Palmer, oae who makes pil- 
grimages to the Holy I^and and to holy places seeking forgive- 
ness for his sins, a Pardoner, who by the authority of the Pope, 
sells pardons from sins, and Indulgences, and as a source of rev- 
enue, carries for sale with him holy trinkets which possess the 
power to cure the sin-sick soul. We know the Poticary or 
Apothecary and Peddler; they are familiar personages even in 
this day. The Palmer and the Pardoner are in the midst of a 
heated conversation when the Poticary enters; he joins in the 
discussion, each setting forth the merits of his calling. Finally 
the Peddler enters with the pack on his back, he must immedi- 


ately display his wares and discuss the merits of each article. 
A discussion on women and their mode of dressing, which if not 
very instruetive is humorous, follows, in which each takes his 
part. The superiority of one over the others must be decided, as 
it is agreed that each shall tell a lie and that the Peddler shall 
decide which is the greatest liar. But before they begin the 
Pardoner produces from his sack, old relics, each possessing a 
peculiar charm and power of its own. They are ridiculed by the 
Poticary, who immediately produces his medicines and explains 
for what purpose and how each is used. Much fun is derived 
from this little scene. Each then tells his lie. The height of 
excitement and fun is reached when the Palmer says that he has 
seen many women and has been in their company a great deal, 
but that he has never seen one ^^out of paciens '' The Palmer 
is acknowledged the superior, all do obeisance and promise to 
obey his commands. Tae Peddler then moraliz:S on the neces- 
sity of our believing in God and having faith in his power, doing 
right and keeping his Commandments. The humor is natural 
and in all but one or two instances is pure. 

"The Four P's" was written about 1530, "Roister Doister'* 
was given to the public before 1550, and "Gammer Gurton's 
Needle" was acted about 1556. All of these three produced in 
less than half a century mark three distinct epochs in the devel- 
opment of Comedy. "The Four P's" represents the entire sep- 
aration of the comic froni the Miracles; while not a comedy it 
contains several of the requisites of a comic play and leads up to 
the true comedy "Ralph Roister Bolster." Gammer Gurton's 
Needle" is is a kind of comedy, a farce. Nicholas Udall took 
real characters true to the English life of that time and con- 
ducted them through a well arranged plot. He used serious 
and comic characters, created complicated difficulties and found 
a way to disentangle matters and straighten out their affairs and 
finally bring all to a happy end. 

Roister Doisler is a rich, boastful, self-important fellow 
who thinks himself the acme of physical and moral strength and 
beauty. He is in love with Dame Custauce, who is engaged to 
Gawyn Goodluck. The parasite, Merrygreeke, Roister Bolster's 


companion, discovers his friend's love for Dame Custance and 
urges him on in his suit, making him appear perfectly redicu- 
lous. Dame Custance tolerates him, for she finds there is no way 
to drive him away. But the servant of Gawyn Goodluck is a wit- 
ness to one of these love scenes and reports the state of affairs to 
his master. Then things assume a sombre color, affairs are 
becoming complicated. Only through the assistance of friends 
to Dame Custance and Gawyn Goodluck are matters righted and 
a happy end to the play brought about. 

"Gammer Gurton's Needle" is a grotesque comedy, a good 
farce. It has no plot. The characters are representatives of the 
lower class of English people. Gammer Gurton, while sewing 
for her servant, Hodge, loses her needle. She and Tyb, her 
maid, look in every conceivable place for it, they even sift the 
ashes, but all in vain; the needle cannot be found. Hodge is 
very much distressed, for it is absolutely necessary that his 
clothes shall be mended in order that he may etijoy the festivi- 
ties of the followicg day. 

The needle was lost in this way: Gammer Gurton had just 
begun to mend Hodge's clothes when Gyb, her cat, jumped into 
the pan of milk, and in her attempts to save the milk Gammer 
Gurton lost her needle. Diccon, a bedlam, told Hodge that Dame 
Chat picked the needle up in front of his mistress' door and took 
it home with ber. He knows it is true for he saw her do it. 
Various stories are told by Diccon, wnich, easily reaching the 
ears of the two old women, stir up continual strife. Gammer 
Gurton visits Dame Chat with the parpDse of either getting her 
needle or of giving Dame Chat a sound whipping. Failing in 
the first she attempted the second, and as a consequence got the 
worst of it. Gammer Gurton finally, at Diccon's suggestion, calls 
in Dr. Rat, the minister, he knows nothing of the needle, but 
promises to go to Dame Chat's home and see whether or not she 
has the needle. But without avail. Dame Chat gives him a 
heavy pounding over the head for meddling with her affairs. 
Finally after the whole neighborhood and the town officials have 
been called in, the needle is found sticking in Hodge's pants. 
Diccon is the one around whom the action clusters. He 


brings about the complications and leaves those concered to 
work them out. 

Campaspe is a light comedy. It has not plot. It is only a 
narrative in the form of a comedy. 

It is plain to us why, for many reasons, Comedy should 
have preceded Tragedy so far and hav3 reached such high devel- 
opment before the Tragedy wis ever attempted. Tae comic 
scenes were a regular part of the Miracle Plays, They were 
gradually detached from the play itself ani were grouped 
into a form sspaiate and distinct. Taey passed through the 
Moralities and euiirged as a distincc thing ia "Ralph Roister 
Doister" and the five-act farce, "Gammer Gurton's Needle." 
This light play appealed to a great many who would not 
have been able to listen to a Tragedy. Then, too. Comedy Is 
more easily written than Tragedy. The motives prompting the 
several actious are more familiar to ihe average mind. I/ast, 
but not lease, these parts were mare easily playe i by the actors. 
It is very doubtful whether the actors of that day could have 
done credit to a Hamlet or Cleopatra. Short, light, comic scenes 
were often enacted at courts and at great dinaers. The court 
fools and jugglers could v-'ry easily take the place of these co- 
medians. Through different circumstances it is evident that the 
comedy should rightfully precede the tragedy. The serious parts 
of the miracle plays combined with the weighty parts of the mor- 
alities, formed the tragedy. Naturally the mind of the people 
developed with the development of the drama, their senses were 
refined and made more acute, their whole soul was prepared for 
the acceptance of the tragedy. 

M. Iv. H. 



The purpose of this article is not to attempt a critical anal- 
ysis of Poe's genius, nor to discover in his works new merit, nor 
reveal a hitherto undisclosed cause for his present general recog- 
nition. It is rather intended, especially in reference to these 
things, to collate the opinions of others, and then attempt to 
give impressions formed personally from his works. 

Few writers have ever braved a severer storm of opposition, 
or been, at times, more without honor in their o:vn countries. 
Few writers, nevertheless, have had more loyal friends than 
those who held firm their allegiance to Poe. The contention 
immediately following his death took something of the nature of 
a personal struggle, bis enemies endeavoring to bury his produc- 
tions in the wreck of an ill-spent life, his friends piUiating his 
faults in the effort to direct attention to the beautiful symmetry, 
not of his life itself, but the fruits of that life. 

In this, his friends were right. It is not for those unac- 
quainted with the intensity of men's souls, out of sympathy 
with the eternal restlessness of a wonderfully acute mind rioting 
with reason and defying restraint, wholly perverse or unable to 
determine that erratic tendencies are the logical resultants of 
powers whose elements are the most rigid analysis and the most 
tenuous imagination — I repeat that these are not the ones to 
pass judgment or fix the standard of measurement for thosa 
lives so constituted. Less tenable is the ground that a man's 
works should be determined by the manner of iiis living. That 
the necessity arises for separating the two is deplorable, because 
human nature is so constituted that it 1 )ves the beautiful 
whether it be seen in art or in life, and it delights to regard the 
excellencies of a man's achievements attributable to the admir- 
ableness of his character. 

It can not be doubted that much of the worth of Longfellow's 
works is due to the purity of his life. Neither can it be doubted 
that much of our appreciation for them results from our appre- 
ciation of his exemplary living. If, however, the life and works 


are at variance, we can not disregard the one because the other 
may be censurable or reject the one because the other can not 
be followed. It may often happen that great truths are broken 
into more valuable components than the whole, by coming 
through the distorted channels of human life and thought. 
The expressions of many lives are needed in the determination 
of what constitutes the great aggregate, human nature. 

The opposition to Poe, however, was due, not alone to his 
wayward life, but to the hatred resulting from his aggressive 
criticism of would-be literary celebrities. Many a budding- 
genius felt the icincss of his touch. Nor dia the young aspirants, 
spoiled in the making, evei forgive their spoliator. These unable 
to cope with him living, busied themselves after his death to rid 
the world of every memory of Poe and every vestige of his 
works. How well they succeeded may be determined from the 
fact that not until recent years have Americans given to Poe 
that leadership among our literary men, long since awarded him 
by Europeans. 

The value of Poe's criticisms is not so widely recognized as 
it should be, doubtless because this part of his works is so totally 
different from the fl/'rz(?rz conclusion of what it would be, that 
the criticisms, themselves, are not widely read. Nevertheless, 
as a critic his insight was keen and his judgment unerring. 
There is perhaps no difl&culty greater than accurately to weigh 
the relative merits of contemporaries and determine their proper 
place in the literary realm. The idea of greatness and perma- 
nency gets so confused with popularity that the one is often mis- 
taken for the others. Poe, however, had the needful discrim- 
ination. From the deluge of rubbish which, then, as today, 
broke loose on the public, he, rarely, failed to detect the perma- 
nent from the drift, or help reclaim the meritorious from the 
punishment of being caught in the wrong class. Though a 
contemporary of our own greatest writers, of Tennyson, Dickens 
and the other celebrated European writers of that time, his 
analysis of their productions, yet, reads like the accepted views 
of today, and his estimate of their respective places in literature, 
the fulfillment of prophecy. A great part of his criticism, how- 


ever, was directed to books and authors now extinct, bat whose 
extinction following the predicted end makes the only needful 
comment. A revival of this kind of literary criticism would 
come today in the nature of a blessing, when each publisher 
vies with another, in hawking his wares. 

As a critic Poe was bold, original, defiant, sometimes, per- 
haps a little unjust. His own originality, his freedom from the 
influence of any school or class of writers and his detestation for 
anything savoring of literary theft found expression in many 
heated controversies that, at times, carried him beyond his 
accustomed critical methods. He labored to emancipate Amer- 
ican literature from the domination of the English, and to free 
it, when emancipated, from the narrowness of sectionalism and 

No attempt will be made to classify Poe's distinctively lit- 
erary productions, though the effort would be interesting. They 
cover a wide range, notwithstanding the criticism that they are 
of a peculiar kind. If hy peculiar kind is meant the imaginative 
part of life — the vast lealm not confined to earth — the criticism 
is perhaps true. A contradiction, however, faces us at the very 
beginning. The incidents related in Poe's detective tales, The 
Murders of Rue Morgtce, The Mystery of Marie Roget and The 
Purloijied Letter, do not strike us as fantastical or improbable if 
related to the physical world. Remembering that they were 
written to clear up the mysteries of actual occurrences and that 
they actually did so, we are convinced that Poe was something 
more than a dreamer in fairy land. 

It is not diflScult to find a striking resemblance in these 
tales and the adventures of Sherlock Holmes. If they be read 
together, the reader can not fail to see the identity of Dupin and 
Holmes and of the deductive processes by which conclusions 
are formed. As regards detail there is, however, a distinction. 
Poe takes a past, completed occurrence and solves the manner 
of its happening. Doyle has Holmes to help achieve the final 
result. We are more interested in Holmes because he is work- 
ing before us, checkmating the plans of his antagonist and pre- 
venting the perpetration of some cunningly devised crime. 


There is room for many thrilling adventures, many brilliant dis- 
plays of inductive reasoning, many startling surprises. The 
author has his actors before him and they act at his direction. 
The reader becomes interested, follows intently every movement, 
takes the part of Holmes, and works with him. This accounts 
for the popularity of Doyle. Holmes, however, never ferrets 
out an occurrence completely past. It is ouly when the same 
persons undertake a similar scheme the second time, which 
scheme he becomes aware of and succeeds in forestalling, that 
Sherlock Holmes learns the mysteries attaching to the former 
occurrence. Remembering, then, the two rnethoda we wonder 
if Poe's detective tales are not the text sugg- sting the adventures 
of Holmes; we, further, wonder if Sherlock, himself, does not 
represent Dupin exercising his skill, not to disclose the perpe- 
trators of past crime but to prevent the perpetration of new 

Without more than a passing mention of the class of Poe's 
works combining equally the analytical and imaginative, as 
illustrated by Hans Phaal, that class will be noticed, which has 
distinctively characterized him and isolated him from the power 
of classification. Reference is made to those tales where the 
conscience is brought into play and the power of imagination 
furnishes the reality. The criticism most often arrayed against 
this class is that mysticism and unnaturalness are vastly pre- 
dominant. The criticism is not well made. It is true that we 
feel a strangeness, a lack of perfect adaptability in the realm 
wherein his characters act, but we experience only what the 
author intended that we should feel. Poe, bitterly, and with good 
cause, resented every insinuation of mysticism. He did, how- 
ever, what few have done. He created the world in which he 
chose to labor and peopled it. Each is consistent with the 
other; neither is ghost-like or chimerical. There was no con- 
fusion in Poe's mind eithe? as to the desired effect or the effect 
actually produced. His characters were as distinct in outline, 
as natural in expression and as adaptable to the environments of 
his world of imagination as a natural person in the physical 
world. We may feel that we are in a strange place, that we 


meet with little that seems familiar, that we recognize little in 
common with our life, but the conclusion is not warranted that 
everything in that world is out of order, unnatural, and gro- 
tesque. We, simply, mistake our own confusion for the author's 
and our lack of understanding for the chaos of his productions. 
If, however, we lay aside our mental combativeness and the 
effort to make his world and its inhabitants conform to our own, 
if we accept the situation he suggesf^s and look from his own 
viewpoiat, the supposed faults disappear and the unmarred 
symmetry stands beautifuU}' disclosed. The meaning is illus- 
trated by The Fall of the House of Usher, The opening 
description leads us into Poe's created realm and if no attempt 
is made to blend worid-made notions with his imaginative sug- 
gestiveness there comes no consciousness of the horrible or 

Another feature of Poe's works subjecting him to criticism 
is said to be tae absence of a moral and the pervading spirit of 
death. With him, however, death is not the end; it is the 
power by which other revelations are revealed. Tne revelations 
may not be pleasant, but, nevertheless, they are true and are 
founded in the obscure depths and workings of human nature 
where the conscience, invisible to the human eye and in silence, 
wages its mighty conflicts. Poe's use of death, however, may 
not, in fact, does not always serve in unfolding the darker side 
of conscience. Its presence in Eieonora, the most beautiful of 
all his producrions, shows the changes attendant upon the 
bestowal and withdrawal of human love. The valley after the 
death of Eieonora was as beautifal as before, but the spirit of 
its beaufy had departed and the mirror reflecting it was broken. 
The man had changed, and the valley took its final coloring 
from his loneliness and isolation. 

Of a moral, no haec fabulix docel is more suggestive than 
7he Tell-Tale Hearl. Yielding to the first suggestion of malice, 
though the object of its envy be but the color of an eye, the 
criminal hastily forms his plan and speedily executes his design. 
Rvery indication of the crime has been carefully concealed. 
The criminal, emboldened by a false courage and that indefin- 


able something of human nature which rejoices in its own 
resourcefulness and exults over the baffled skill of others, directs 
the officers to the very spot that conceals the object of their 
search. He helps them search — sees them satisfied and ready 
to depart — when, drinking the spirit of satanic triumph, he 
reaches the very limit of defiance and detains them. This was 
the fatal step. Conscience, suddenly became stricken with the 
realization of the crime and the consequence of its disclosure. 
He mistakes the beating of his own heart for that of his mur- 
dered victim concealed near by, the innocance and ignorance of 
the officers for fiendish gleefulness and triumph over the discov- 
ery of his secret, until the awful strain could, no longer, be 
endured and he confesses. 

The history of conscience when a man yields to crime, is 
here given and the terrible tragedy enacfed in his ov^n soul 
resulting in what is ordinarily called confession is laid bare. 
We shudder not at the murder, not at the minuteness of its 
description, but at the passions of the murderer. We stand 
aghast not at the disclosure of crime, but of the criminal as his 
soul passes through those awful processes to end in the maxim — 
that murder will out. We may feel that Poe has shown us 
crime, but the silent warning of its hideousness speaks out that 
the way of the transgressor is hard. 



What tho' some wind of life thy idol lay 

Naked, dethroned, 
Its gilded feet prove coarsest clay, 

Its heart but stone? 
The darkness passes with the storm. 
The day will light some fairer form, 
And thou shalt wonder that with eyes so blind 
Thou e'er couldst worship at a meaner shrine. 

What if thy woes be sealed within thy breast 

Too sad for tears, 
And bitter seems thy weary part, 

Endless the years:? 
Thou seai'st a fountain from some friend, 
Thou check'st the streams that he would send, 
Nor years eternal ever can replace 
The loss of both from lack of common faith. 

The world is wider than thy life, thou art 

Not most, but least: 
Expect it not to fast with thy sad heart, 

Gd join its feast. 
Good Cheer and Gladness wait to serve 
The cup that will thy powers nerve, 
And thou shalt see again the star of Hope, 
I/Ong set, arise above the darkened cope. 

J. H. P., '04. 



Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College 

W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief 

l/AMAR EasTERWNG, Associate Editor 

F. D. MeIvLEn, Alumni Editor 

D. L. Bingham, Local Editor. 

JOS. H. Penix, Literary Editor. 

H. V. WaTkins, Athletic Editor. 

F. E. GuNTER, Business anager 

W. C. Bowman, M. S. Pittman, Assistants 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to F. E. 
Gunter, Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be sent 
to W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief. 


Subscription Per annum $1.00. Two Copies $1.50. Per Annum 


We have understood that a prominent citizen of 
A MEDAL FOR Jackson proposes to give a medal to be offered 
THE JUNIORS to the junior cla^s. Five medals are offered an- 
nually at Millsapi College, but none of 
these are especially offered to the juniors, 
while each of the other classes has a special medal. It is true 
that the juniors, along with the members of the other classes, 
are eligible as contestants for the Clark essay medal ; and if they 
happen to be chosen, they can contest foi the inter-society de- 
bater's medal. In fact, this latter medal was until recently re- 
garded as rather belonging to the junior class; for, in the main 
juniors have been chosen by the societies as their representa- 
tives. Ttiis, however, has been rather an accident, and that it 
is far from establishing itself as a custom is evidenced by the 
fact that three of the contestants in the approaching debate are 
seniors. As the senior class grows larger and larger with the 


growth of the college, and as its members become thereby more 
influential and prominent in all college work, the juniors will 
become correspondingly less conspicuous in the essay and de- 
bater's contests. So, it does seem that if a medal and a contest 
are necessary for the proper activity, enlivening, and representa- 
tion of a class, the juniors are in need of a medal. 

What particular excellence or attainment shall be distin- 
guished by this medal, we believe, has not been determined. 
Indeed, we hear that the faculty are somewhat at sea in the 
matter. This is not because they feel that an additional prize 
could not be worthily bestowed; nor is it because they are reluc- 
tant to receive the beneficence of a patron. The real difficulty 
lies in the poverty of resources available in an ordinary com- 
mencement occasion for affording an event that shall be signal- 
ized by the winning and bestowal of a medal. For a medal de- 
mands a public event; gold glitters to be seen. Glorify as we 
may the zeal for contest, the ambition to attain highest excell- 
ence, or the unselfish desire to bring honor and pleasure to our 
society, our fraternity, and our home friends; he tiuth remains 
that the event is important and interesting in the public eye 
because of the tumultuous acclaim, the stirring and dramatic 
creation of a transient hero. Commencements are for the pub- 
lic, and contests are for commencements. So the faculty are 
casting about for some new contest that will give the junior a 
chance to invite his father and mother to witness his glorifica- 
tion, and afford his girl an opportunity for flowers. 

There are three possible contests for the college boy, declama- 
tion, oration and debate. Octiers that we think of are adventi- 
tious. At Millsaps to propose declamation to a junior would be to 
invite fcorn. Oratory comports with the dignity of juniority^ 
but we already have two oratorical contests; to add a third would 
stale a variety that is certainly not infinite. As to a debater's 
contest, the Literary Societies make their joint debate a com- 
mencement event; and they make it a contest and award a meial 
to the best debater. A junior debate contest would necessarily 
divide the interest that now attaches to the inter-society debate,, 
an interest that, as it is, is certainly rot turbulent or intemper- 


ate. The juniors should have a try at fame and glory; but how- 
pi ovide a way? 

To us there appear two plans, either one of which would 
not only provide an interesting and developing contest but 
would afford an opportunity for improving the contests already 
established. One plan would be to make the sophomore orator- 
ical contest a declamation contest and establish a junior orator- 
ical contest. It is true that this would introduce the same con- 
test in two suceeding years, but it is as fitting to have two decla- 
mation contests as it is to have two oratorical contests, which 
we now have. In fact the balance would be belter preserved by 
making the contests for the lower classmen and the upper class- 
men respectively the same. There are obvious advantages to 
the sophomores in such a change. Chief of these is that the 
sophomors would be set a task they could all of them undertake 
with the hope of accomplishing in a satisfactory manner. Some 
sophomores can write speeches, but many of them are not de- 
veloped enough, not trained enough, for such a task. A college 
can render no higher service to its students than to develop a 
fine sense of honor in all matters that depend upon student hon- 
esty in tests and contests. If the conditions involved in the 
sophomore oratorical contest are unfavorable to the fostering 
and strengthening of this sense of honor, then this contest cannot 
but be regarded as an unfortunate event. 

Another possible disposition of this medal would be to offer 
it as a debater's medal, limiting it to a contest between six mem- 
bers of the junior class. It conld be provided that if more than 
six men entered as contestants, the contest could be cut down 
by the faculty in a praliminiry. Sach a caatest, we believe, 
would afford several advantages. Chief of these would be the 
opportunity it would furnish for doing away with the medal in 
the inter-society debate. There, a medal is an impertinence. 
The primary purpose of this debate was to pit two debaters from 
each society against one another and let them tussel for the 
honors; honors that were fine and glorious, not because of the 
exaltation of an individual, because the champions in generous 
zeal and toil had led their society to victory. As a matter of 


fact we are a far leap from such a condition. Little thought is 
given to the society victory by the members or by the contes- 
tants themselves. The elimination of the medal feature would 
not only bring this event back to its original purpose but it 
would certainly insure better debates. Interest wouH center 
in the debate itself with reference to the treatment of the ques- 
tion. Colleagues would work together with the single aim of 
winning a decision that would bring pride to the society that 
has honored tnem; and they would be sustained and heartened 
by an esprit de corps in their society that would be the very 
strongest incitement to utmost effort. Not only so, but a debate 
that is purely an inter-society contest is sure to excite society 
activity and develop society spirit as hardly anything else can. 
Finally, the elimination of the medal feature from this joint 
debate would add much in dignity to the occasion. How much 
more serious, how much more manly it is to strive for excell- 
ence, for achievement, for victory that is not cheapened by the 
intrusion of any vain and gaudy medal! What a fine thing it is 
to work for the sheer glory oi doing a thing well! 



The Jotirnal, of the Southwestern Univ., (Clarksville, 
Tenn.) increases in merit each issue. There are to be found in 
this periodical a large number of essays and stories, with much 
good verse and clippings interspersed among the more solid pro- 
ductions. The prize contests for poetry, essays and stories, cer- 
tainly are accomplishing the purpose for which they were de- 
signed. They have supplied Ihe Jouryial WiXh a large assort- 
ment of first-class articles. This course, we think, is without 
doubt a good one, and one that should be followed by all maga- 
zines which are desirous of attaining to a high degree of promi- 
nence in college journalism. We have noticed all along with 
the keenest interest, what effect prize contests would exert on a 
college paper in the way of stimulating interest among the stu- 


dents in a literary direction. In every case there have been a de- 
cided improvement and advancement in the quantity and the 
quality of the matter published. Among other interesting and 
thoughtfully prepared articles, we call especial attention to the 
article "Literature — It's Ideal," which impresses us as being 
the best essay in it. It is an admirable article, and one that 
gives us a true insight to what ideal literature is, and what 
effect it has on its readers. "State Interference" is another 
essay well worth a careful reading and assimilation. "My In- 
heritance," a competitive story, is a strong, well written story. 
The plot is good, and with his command over language and ease 
of expression, the author shows himself to be a story writer of 
no mean order. "Richard the Third," while much condensed, 
presents very well some of the characteristics of this wonderful 
character. "When My Mother Went to Pray" is a praiseworthy 
piece of verse, containing much genuine feeling In its tone. 
The last verse is especially touching and well expressed. We 
feel that our judgment receives no abuse when we say that the 
Journal Is a strong, progressive, and In every way praiseworthy 
publication, and one which we value very highly as an ex- 

The suggestion made by the Exchange Editor of the lulane 
University Magazine In regard to giving the name and location 
of the magazines reviewed, Is certainly a good one, and one that 
should be followed by all Exchange Editors. The Exchange 
Department of this magazine Is very noticeable for the Inter- 
prising and thorough-going way in which it is conducted — a 
strong point in a college magazine. 

We found In the Review and Bulletiti, (Greensboro, Ala.) a 
veritable literary treat. It Is with much pleasure that we note 
the rapid progress this magazine Is making. It Impresses us as 
being well gotten up in every respect; the departments are care- 
fully edited; and thecholcefof its material show much good taste 
and judgment but the arrangement is not the best. "Tennyson 
and His Poetry" Is a cleverly treated essay. From this much 


may be learned about this wonderful poet — about his works and 
Ills life. A subject that will never grow stale or uninteresting 
as long as poetry finds an answering throb in the human breast. 
^'Lord Byron" is another carefully prepared essay, that evidences 
much literaty taste and insight in its treatment. "A Plea for 
the Clashes," though brieflly treated, certainly touches the core 
of a lamentable truth. 

"Tierra Incognita" is the title of an interesting and instruct- 
ive article in the Arizona Monthly (Tucson, Ariz.) This piece 
together with the illustrative cuts, adds much charm and beauty 
to the Monthly. In describing this unknown region of country 
the writer beautitully and expressively says: " * * Little 
known and rarely traversed these ravening barrens, gated with a 
thousand ominous defiles, toothed with a wilderness of snarling 
rocks, terrify the imagination with their menace, even while 
they tempt with their mystery." About the only fault we can 
find with the Monthly is the entire absence of verse. We looked 
in vain among its pages for a single poem. May Springtime be 
propitious in unlocking the founts of the muses! Oiherwise the 
Monthly is a strong journal, with many good points to make up 
for any shortcomings — among which good points the Editorials 
are always very prominent. We are always glad to receive this 
magazine and enjoy reading it much. 

The University Ujiit, (Fort Worth, Texas) with the new 
year, has taken on a new and attractive dress. But this is not 
the only point in the Unit worthy of praise. We find much 
interesting and valuable reading matter in it — if it is all prose. 
This issue (January) brings us two good essays and many 
sprightly and spirited editorials on interesting topics. The Ex- 
change Department of this magazine is one of the best conducted 
we have met with — abounding in many keen and helpful criti- 
cisms and suggestions. "Makers of Public Opinion," by Miss 
Elma Gillespie, is certainly a very praiseworthy production, 
which is written in a pleasing and forcible style. The writer 
evidently believes in "Hero Worship." This article goes to 


show that the writer can write quite as well as criticise. "Cecil 
Rhodes" is a fine piece of character study. From it we catch 
some idea of the kind of a man he was and and of some of the 
aims he had in life. Barring the want of verse, the Unit takes 
its rank among our best exchanges, and we always welcome it 
with much pleasure. In its pages are to be found much origi-^ 
nality and good sense. 

The Mississippi College Magaeine (Clinton, Miss.) has some 
interesting reading in it, as is nearly always the case. "How a 
Young Man Built Up History in Mississippi" is an interesting 
article to all loyal Mississippians. It traces the growth of the 
Mississippi Historical Society, which led to the creation of the 
Department of Archives and History in this State. "Robert 
Browning" is a strong essay, dealing with Bro>vning as a poet» 
In it the writer has given us a comprehensive delineation of 
some of Browning's strong points as a poet and philosopher of 
life. The Exchange Department of this magazine is especially 
worthy of praise for the careful attention devoted to it, and the 
enterprising way in which it is conducted. The poen "To 
Baine" is an exceedingly good piece of verse. 

Among the new exchanges we have lately received is the 
Uyiiversity School Budget (Stone Mountain, Ga.)- It makes a 
neat appearance and is printed on good paper. It contains some 
bright reading, but an essay or two would add much to it. 
"His Consent" is an interesting story, though the plot is some- 
what old. We gladly welcome the Budget to our desk. 

Another new exchange and one valued very highly, is the 
Limestone Star (Gafney, S. C.)- In its pretty white cover it 
makes an up-to-date and impressive appearance. Yet, within 
in the quality and arrangement of its material deserves still 
more commendation. "Experience as an Essential to Life" is a 
good article. So also are "Kindness" and "A True Woman". 
The editorials are strong and forcible. We reckon it among our 
best exchanges. 

th:b: mili,saps coli^egian. ^3 

New exchanges received : The Exponent, Limestone Star and 
U^iiversity School Budget. 

Since lie the last issue of the Collegian, we wish to 
acknowledge the receipt of the following much appreciated 
exchanges also: Hendrix College Mirror, Southwestern Univer- 
sity Magazine, Hillman Lisbidelian, 7 he Twentieth Century 
Tattler, College Reflector, Randolph Macon Monthly, Crimson 
and Gold, Olive and Blue, Revielle, Univ. of Va. Magazine, 
Vox Wesley a7i. The Alpha, Maroon and White, Parker Purple, 
Emory and Henry Era, Emory Phoenix, Clionian, Deaf Mzitw 
Voice, U?iiversity Miss. Magazine, Purple a?id Green, Bicff and 


I followed her four blocks or more, 

With ever-quickening pace; 
Her figure was indeed divine, — 

At last I saw her face. 

I now am armed with two big guns; 

The blood is in my eye; 
I'm looking for the man who said, 

"Figures never lie." 

— From a Cynic's Diary. 

He guessed the guess for his degree. 

But guessed his guess in vain, 
For he guessed without the Faculty, 

Who guessed he'd guess again. — Exchange. 

O, Mary Ann, come row with me. 

Upon the silent bay, 
Where dancing moonbeams here and there 

Disport themselves at play. 


^*Ah, sir," said simple Mary Ann, 
"I hardly think we ought'r. 
For I'm afraid we'd seem to cast 

Reflections on the water." — Exchange 

Parson (visiting prison) — Why are you here, my misguided 

Prisoner — "I'm the victim of the unlucky number, 13," 

Parson— "Indeed! How's that?" 

Prisoner — "Tsvelve jurors and one judge." — Excharge. 

Schoolmaster: "Now let us have 'Little Drops of Water,' 
and do please put a little spirit in it." — Ex. 


Ah! was the hour uncounted 

Because it was serene; 
And passed as quickly as a breath 

Over a quiet lake's clear silver sheen?" 
Ah! was the hour uncounted 

Because it was not long; 
And passed as quickly as the murmur 

Of the dying echo from a drifting song? 

Ah! was the hour uncounted 

Because it swift did flee; 
I/ike a phantom play it sped 

And soon was passed and left a memory? 

— Univ. of Va. Magazine. 

The rose at morn may open out 

Her cup for all the world to kiss; 
The primrose wooing through the night 

May in the moonbeams find her bliss. 
But in the night, or in the day, 
With one heart ope'd for me alway, 
I'll envy not the pink rose kiss — 
I'll envy not the primrose bliss. 
— R. C. Krskine, in Williams Literary Monthly. 



JOS. H. PENIX, Editor. 


So many^nd so varied are the books of today that the re- 
viewer hesitates to discuss anovelualess it is fresh from the pan 
of the author. Verily, "of making of books there is no end." 
The appetite of the reading public has become greedy with a de- 
sire for quantity and variety rather than quality. Since ones 
there has occurred in the public mind a loss of appreciation for 
those standards of literature which were fixed by the art and 
genius of our great novelists, it seems that the abnormal greed 
to devour books while hot from the press will develop in it a 
chronic dyspepsia such as to render it incapab'e of digesting 
a really strong novel. Tnis demand calls forth in turn an in- 
creasing supply which, under present conditions, cannot, as a 
whole, grow better, but must rather tend to depreciate, and there 
is at least a tendency toward that deplorable state where a writer 
shall be known better by the nuTiber of his books than by the 
individual books themselves. How far the taste of readers will 
become perverted, and to what extent this p'rrverted taste will 
affect our literature, both immediately^ and permauentlj^, are 
questions, which, of course, cannot be answered, but which are 
nevertheless serious ones. However, of the present, this at 
least is true: should a writer of real merit appear, should that 
writer produce a work of true and permanent literary value, it 
must struggle against great odds to find a secure place in the 
body of our literature. It must prove its right to live by the 
hardihood of extraordinary strength and merit, and amid the 
multitude of books whose lives are ephemeral it must await the 
slow recognition which finally comes to "the suvival of the 

Occasionally, however, there arise an author and a book of 
such uncommon merit that we cannot but wish for them a kind- 

*Th.e House with the Green Shutters, by George Douglas; McClure, 
Phillips & Co., New York. 


lier fate and a more usspicious and appreciative time. Such a 
writer is George Douglas Brown, and such a book is The House 
with the Green Shutters. And even though this book is already 
considered rather out of date by some, yet it is still worthy of 
discussion, and contains some elements so rare that they should 
secure for it a longer lease on life than falls to the average liter- 
ary production. 

Mr. Brown himself, in a general estimate of books, said that 
the damning fault of most books is that nothing seems to leap at 
one from the pages. "Books," he said, "should be pregnant and 
packed." He has fully carried this idea into execution in The 
House with the Green Shutters. It is said that he first composed 
it as a short story, and while we cannot see, knowing how con- 
cise and forceful it is even now, why he should ever have tried 
to pack so much in such little space, yet this gives the key to 
the writer and the book. Though throwing in occasional bits 
of description which have a striking power and interest in their 
directness and simplicity, he generally plunges directly into the 
very midst of thought and action, leaving minor details to the 
imagination of the reader. Indeed, this very suggestiveness is 
one of the most striking elements of his style. He does not 
devote half a dozen pages to the description of an object or to 
the investigation of some psychologic process in the mind of one 
of his characters, yet who can read The House with the Green 
Shutters without feeling that he has become well acquainted 
with "gurly Gourlay" and his surroundings? 

Brown was one of the few who deal with humanity simply 
for the sake of what they see in it, and who feel that a delineation 
of life will justify itself without calling in the aid of abnormal 
freaks of character or pictures of disgusting ugliness. It is true 
that there is nothing of the highest in any of his characters, and 
our admiration for the Scotch character forces us to believe that 
he has painted the darker side; but there seems to be nothing in 
the book which might not be true of that darker side. He simply 
depicts the Scot when all his grim sternness and pride are per- 
verted by isolation or envy. John Gourlay is a pitiable fellow, 
it must be confessed; yet in his nature and in his awful fate we 


see that none but he has woven the web that at last trips him 
headlong into destruction. Selfiishness, defiance of public 
opinion, and onsequent isolation cause his ways to diverge fur- 
ther and further from the sympathy and concern of mankind, 
until at last the causes of that isolation react upin him and in- 
volve him in sad ruin. It is a serious lesson, vividly though 
sadly taught, and its application holds true far beyond the nar- 
row confines of a Scotch village. Then the overweening pride 
and foolishness of the younger Gourlaj! How surely had he 
inherited his father's weaknesses without his strength! How 
admirably has the writer in describing him described the effect 
of a petty success on a little mind! 

The Hoicse with the Green Shiitters might be likened to one 
of Poe's tragic tales with the natural substituted for the fantas- 
tic; and though differing so widely in this respect, it suggests 
Ihe Fall of the House of Usher. Poe has surrounded the House 
of Usher with an atmosphere of weird mystery, bestowed upon, 
its master all the exquisite nervousness of generations of ances- 
tors and placed him within a house where every accessory com- 
bines to aggravate his temperament. It is no white-sheeted 
ghost of vulgar superstition that stalks and shrieks through the 
darkened chambers, but it is something more awful b:cause un- 
seen, yet felt the more keenly. Brown, on the other hand, em- 
ploys nothing more mysterious than occurs in what are termed 
the commonplace lives of a family of coarse Scotch people. And 
yet he has surrounded them with an air so peculiar, has attrib- 
uted to them traits so distinctly their own and has made his 
characters and scenes so dramatic that the commonplace comes 
to have a strange interest for us. He has succeeded in making 
the house take on the character of the master, rather than influ- 
ence the master himself. 

It is hard to imagine anything more dramatic than the final 
scenes of the story. They are terrible, and their silent sureness 
and swiftness make the reader wait with bated breath for the 
outcome. They form a cumulative series of tragic climaxes, 
not distinctly elevating, perhaps, but of extraordinary power: 
and whatever faults the story may contain, it is beyond doubt 
one of the strongest books of the last few years. 




F. D. MELLEN, Editor. 

Rev. W, E. M. Brogan is pastor of the Methodist church in 
Carrollton, Miss. 

Mr. F. M. Glass, of Law Class 1901, recently spent a day 
on the campus. Mr. Glass has quite a lucrative practice at 
Vaiden, Miss. 

Mr. Edwin B. Ricketts, who has been employed in the 
Meter Department of the Edison Illuminating Company, recently 
spent a few days with his father, Prof. R. S. Ricketts. Mr. 
Ricketts has gone to Birmingham, Ala., where he has accepted 
a position. His cousin, Mr. K. B. Powell, who has been asso- 
ciated with him, will, however, remain in New York as techni- 
cian at the Waterside Power Plant., , ^ ^^^. 

, , , . 

Another of our alumni who i^s recognized the rewards con- 
nected with an engineering profession is Wharton Green, '98. 
During the few years he bas been resMing in England, Mr. 
Green has realized much success in his chosen field of labor. 
We understand that he has entered into several important and 
profitable contracts for constructions at Glasgow, Scotland. 

Mr. A. Iv. Clark, who has for the past few months been 
interested in business at Yazoo City, paid us a hurried visit a 
few days since while on his way to Austin, Texas. He was 
accompanied by his brother, Richard, and together they will 
enter into the studies of an advanced business course. 

The new Professor of Mathematics at Belhaven College is 
Mr. V7. A. Williams, '02. Mr. Williams was assistant in 
Biology in this college last year, and during that time proved 
his ability as an instructor. Already in his new work his ability 
is recognized. He has, in fact, become quite a favorite among 
the pupils. 

Several graduates of this institution have received the 
degree of Master of Science at the hands of their Alma Mater. 


But of the large number who have received diplomas from this 
college, only one has yet applied for the distinction of M. A. It 
is worthy of mention that our first woman graduate, Miss Mary 
Holloman, is also the first applicant the College has ever had 
for the degree of Master of Arts. 

Frank Bailey, 1900, has located in the Indian Territory » 
He has been so fortunate as to secure a partnership in a very old 
and well-established legal firm. He was chosen Temporary 
Secretary of the Statehood Convention, recently held. 


D. Iv. BINGHAM, Editor. 

"A maid with a duster 
Once made a great bluster, 
A dustiug a bust in the hall; 
And when it was dusted, 
The bust, it was busted, 
And the bust is now dust." 
That is all. 

Boys'! Have you noticed the new Spring ad's., in this 

We failed to note in our former issue the election of Mr. W. 
F. Cook to represent us in the State oratorical contest this year. 
We have won the medal three times in succession and we are 
equally confident this time. 

The revival services held annually by the Y. M. C, A: 
were conducted this year by Bro. T. W. Lewis pastor of the 
first Methodist church of Columbus, Miss. Great interest was 
taken and much good was derived from them by the whole 
student body. 

Bro. BUis pastor of Capitol Street Methodist Church con- 
ducted chapel exercises for us the first of the month. 


Work on the K. A. Chapter house has been begun and the 
building will be completed bycomcneacinieat. It will be a credit 
to the fraternity at large and to the members of Alpa Mu 

Mr. McCullough a member of the board of Missions of the 
Methodist Church South spent several days with us this month 
in the interest of his work. 

"He claims to have invented a camera that makes people 
prettier than they are. 'How is that?" "By simply making the 
lens flatter." 

H. V. Watkins a member of the class '04 has withdrawn 
from school and accepted the position of circulating editor of the 
Jackson Kvening News. 

Mr. Edwin B Ricketts '01 who has been working in New 
York, city has resigned his position and accepted one with a 
chemist in Birmingham, Ala. At present writing he is at home 
sick with I^a Grippe, but we hope to see him able to be outsoon. 

Dr. Sullivan to Kennedy In Physics class: "What are con- 
cave mirrors?" "Why er-er — they are mirrors that are concave." 
Dr. Sullivan, "Well then tell me what you mean by concave?" 
Kennedy. "Why Doctor a man is expected to know something 
about the English language." 

Ben D. Hennlngton a former member of class '05 has stopp- 
ed school and Is now studying shorthand under Prof. Will 
Campbell of this city. 

The senior class of this year fell Into the same rut that the 
classes of the past few years have, that Is they adopted the Cap 
and Gown. '■''These Articles'^ are all right In their place but we 
fall to see their approplateness In some places anyhosv. 

The man to represent the Y. M. C. A., at Ashville summer 
school has not been elected, yet but the money has been sub- 
scribed and the choice will be made In the^near future. This 
is a good work boys and If you have not already contributed do 
so at once and have a hand In helping the association along. 


She was handsome, leading a pet dog up Hamilton Avenue. 
An exquisite masher guiled a chimpanzee smile as she passed 
the Windsor Hotel and said; "Madam I envy your dog," ''So 
do all the other puppies" was her quick response, and he pulled 
ap his coat collar and took the nearest side street. 

All the commencement speakers have been elected now and 
all the boys are hard at work from the dignified senior who struts 
along as if he had his diploma in his hip pocket instead of a 
^'pony" to Horace or a pass on his final exams, instead of three 
months hard work, to the poor humble Freshman whose heart 
leaps into his throat every time he thinks of the coming ordeal. 

The faculty have elected Mr. D. C. Enochs to represent us 
at the Crystal Springs Chataqua in July. Mr. Enochs is also 
Anniversarian for the Lamar Literary Society. 

The reception tendered to the Senior Class on the night of 
March 20th, by Miss Aimee Hemmingway at her home on 
North Street was quite an enjoyable affair. The interesting 
event of the evening was the awarding; of the prize to the man 
who wrote the best description of the girl he took to the enter- 
tainment. Mr. Easterling by far the handsomest (?) man in his 
class won the prize while Mr. Nobles a close second in respect 
to "good looks" won the booby, a pair of spectacles to enable 
him to do better next time. 

The prep who asked the Librarian for Evangeline by 
Wordsworth had best study Longfellow's first and then he will 
be more able to understand ' the one by Wordsworth." 

The Epworth League social given at Epworth Hall last 
Friday night was greatly enjoyed by all who attended. Delight- 
ful refreshments were served and some interesting recitations 
and humorous sketches by Mr. Jordan were features of the 

Never buy so much as a shoe string from a man who does 
ajot have an ad., with us, if you can get it from a man who does. 
It has been by the generous sapport of our advertisers that we 
have been able to make any improvement we may have made. 

^69 6969 69696969S9696969<»9696969696969696969S969 


i G. B, Downing Com'y. 

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Vol. 5. ^ JACKSON, MISS., APRIL, 1903. No. 7- g 


The Prime Minister strode angrily up and down the room. 
Finally going to one corner he turned and faced the King. 

"Your jokes, to say the least of them, are not in the best of 
taste. What warrants youinsajing such senseless things, I 
know not." 

"My dear Count," said the King, a spot of red glowing on 
either cheek, "this is no jest; I am in earnest. I thought that 
I myself would take one of the parts before, and now since you 
have put your stamp of disapproval on it, I have become more 
firmly resolved to play the leading part of the play. I am the 
king of this realm, not you." 

The Prime Minister saw that the young King was angry 
and that he would do his cause injury by using ridicule. He 
bsgan to try to reason with his young Sovereign. 

"Don't you see that it will create talk? Besides, it will ex- 
pose your royal person to the attacks cf some anarchist, fanatic, 
or crank. Remember that not only your life is imperiled, but 
the nation's interests also." 

"I have thought cf that," returned the King, "I will never 
reveal my identity only to the persons in the cast. There can 
be no danger if my identity remains undisclosed. 

"Very well," replied the minister, "very well, but remem- 
ber I have warned you of the consequences, and wash my hands 
of the whole affair. If you must act thus foolishly, I recommend 
that you take one of your I,ife Guards as a companion so as to 
Insure your absolute safety." 

"It is true that I have just reached my majority," replied 
the independent young King, "but that is no reason why I 
should have one of those soldiers trotting at my heels continual- 
ly. If I am in danger, I trust that I am too much of a man to 
drag even a common soldier into it with me." 


"As you will, as you will. When will this farce be pre- 

"It will take a month's practice at least for the players to 
learn their parts. As for the play, I have said before, it is a 
tragedy, not a farce," said the King smilingly as a spark of 
humour lit up his face, although our efforts to produce a tragi- 
cal effect may bs farcical." No indeed, it is no farce. It is a 
regular Blood and Taunder tragedy and in the last act there is 
some sword play between the Hero and the Villain. It ends in 
the Hero putting a sword through the Villain's vitals By the 
way, who can I get to take the part of this V illain. If I 
offer it to any of the Courtiers they will take it as an insult as 
you know they are over sensitive regarding such things. It 
will be very unfortunate if I do not get some one soon." 

"You will have to lookout for t^hat yourself. I cannot 
see anything good in having this play produced. I can see no 
motive that can actuate you." 

"Ivife is getting dull at the Court and everyone is nearly 
dying of ennui. The play may serve to livei them up. You 
must excuse me now as the Ambassador from the United States 
has an audience with me in a few minutes " The King left 
the room. 

The Prime Minister looked at the retreating form of the 
King." It was ever thus. Boy Kings lead the Ministers and 
court officials a merry chase with their ever varying whims and 
fancies." He stepped outside and called in the soldier who 
stood outside the chamb r in the corridor He was a young 
soldier and as the Prime Minister called him in, he trembled. 
It is not often a common soldier is called into the Prime Min- 
ister's office. The miaister led him over to the light of the 
■window and looked earnestly into his face. "He has an hon- 
est and in elligent face" soliloquized the Minister, "he will 

"What is your name my boy, and where do you hail 

Paul Schutz sir; my home is at the foot of the Bavarian 
Alps. I have been in service only six months." 


"What," asked the Minister curiously yet kindly "what 
influenced you to go into the service?" 

The boy, for he was hardly more, stammered and radden- 
ed. "I am poor sir and my tather taught me something of the 
use of the sword and I thought to be of service to the King and 
win myself a name in the world that I might go back and claim 
"he looked doubtfully at the other." S.r, he ventured. "I 
love a maiden." 

The Minister turned and looked out of the window at the 
gathering dusk. Ttie young soldier wondered what he was 
looking at so long. The Prime Minister was thinking of a 
maiden more beautiful than a dream who died in her early 
youth, perhaps also he was thinking of a boy, ragged and 
friendless, who came to the court and enlisted as a soldier many 
years ago. The minister was called a hard man by his ene- 
mies, but the soldier almost fancied he caught the gleam of a 
tear in the old man's eyes." 

"Young man," said he without turning, "You haven't 
met with the success you have desired, have you?" And then 
without waiting for an answer he continued. "You can serve 
the King and if you do it well you will not go unrewarded. 
The King is going to have a play produced by the Court, he 
himself playing the leading part. He will reveal his identity 
to no one except the other players. You see if his identity 
should accidently be shown to some fanatic, great danger would 
result. At this particular time of all times when the Kingdom 
fairly teems with anarchists it has pleased the King to go into 
this fooliah business defenseless. I have heard that the great 
Italian anarchist, Giovanetd, is iu the Kingdom. If he is, the 
King's life is in great danger. Observe the King's actions 
closely, but do not let him see you if possible. Remember, 
watch." Hi dismissed the young soldier. 
♦ ## + * ** *« **« 

In a dark, damp room with low ceiling in the capital city 
of the Kingdom, there was gathered a strange assemblage. A 
man was closing a short speech. 

"Fd'ow Socialists it gives me great pleasure to present ta 


you our famous CO laborer for justice to the down trodden; one 
who devotes his li^e to the cause. He has already slain on& 
despot and" he added with emphasis, we hope he will soon 
add another to the list. Gentlemen, I present to you, Giovan- 
etti, the anarchist of anarchists. 

The man beside the speaker on the platform bowed gravely. 
He had a noble cast of countenance, not much in keeping with 
the unshaven and unkempt visages of his audience. His frame 
was well knit, and the square of his under jaw showed tenacity. 

"Fellow Laborers for the Right, I have been in this city 
something over a month. I had been here but one day before I 
found that the King of this country was going to have a play 
produced by the Court. This was very favorable to my plans. 
None of the courtiers would take the part of the villain in the 
play because they thought it would be a little beneath their 
dignity to play the part of the one who got the worst of it in the 
play. I found out all this, no matter by what means. I then 
went to the King and offered myself for the part. The King 
did not even consult his Prime Minister, but accepted me with- 
out hesitation, after examining mv credentials. The play is a 
bloody one. In the last act there is a duel between the hero in 
the play and the villain. After a heated sword combat the hero 
triumphs, and the curtain rings down on the hero restored to 
his love with all misunderstandings cleared away. Now, I have 
some little skill as a swordsman, and I am going to make use of 
it simply in this way: In the mock duel between myself and 
the King, instead of pretending to be killed myself, I intend to 
kill the King. I can do it in such a way that it will seem to be 
an accident, caused by the clumsiness of the King." 

The speaker paused, as he thought he heard a noise over- 
head. But hearing no further disturbance, he continued to 
detail a few minor things in regard to his actions after he had 
killed the King. 

Over the speaker's head there was a knot-hole in the floor 
of the room above, and, as the room below had no ceiling, one 
could very well hear what went on in the room below from the 
room above. Lying on the floor, with his ear pressed close 


against the knot-hole, every muscle tense with excitement, was 
a young man dressed in the uniform of the L,ife Guards of the 
King. It was Paul Schultz. He was listening eagerly to the 
words of the speaker. As he heard the plot unfolded he trem- 
bled and turned an ashy hue. He had been following the King 
for a month, as the Piime Minister had directed him, but 
he had never dreamed of such a well-planned plot as this. In 
fact, he knew not why he had followed Giovanetti. His blood 
chilled with horror at the cold-bloodedness of these anarchists. 
The play was to be to-night, and if he did not warn the King in 
time he would be killed. This thought stirred him to action. 
He hurried out of the building and started as he heard the 
great clock in the public square boom out the hour of seven. 
He had one hour in which to save the King, 

He went to a public fountain and bathed his brow, which 
was levered with excitement. He reflected that it would not be 
best to go to the palace and call out the soldiers, for there would 
be more or less confusion and excitement. It would be better 
to warn the King himself. 

It was a short walk to the theatre, which had been leased 
by the King to produce the play. He waited half an hour and the 
King did not appear. He was looking anxiously up the street in 
search of the King when he felt his shoulders grasped by no 
gentle hand, and heard a voice say: "So you are looking for me, 
are you not?" 

The soldier turned and found himself face to face with the 
King, who was in citizens' clothing. 

"But, Sir," stammered the soldier. 

"Don't deny it. Where do you think I have had my eyes 
during the past month that I haven't seen you dogging my 
steps? I'll warrant that that plagued Minister, who is so solic- 
itous about my safety, is at the bottom of it." 

"Sir, you are in great danger!" the young soldier finally 
managed to say. 

"The Prime Minister has instilled some of his foolish fears 
into his flunkeys," said the King, with rising wrath. "There 
is no danger to this Kingdom exc^ept from having such an 


addlepate for a Minister. lyook here, young fellow; if I catch 
you sneaking around my heels again, there will be a vacancy 
in my Life Guards shortly." So saying, the King turned on 
his his heels and went into the plav-bouse. 

Soon the carriages of the noblemen and great people began 
to stop before the place. The play was a great society affair for 
the Court. It soon began. The| house was full. Out- 
side was a young soldier racking his brains for a plan to save 
the King. He had tried to warn him, but the King would 
not permit him. Suddenly an idea struck him. ''I'll save him 
in spite of himself," he said. He ran up the street in search of 
a policeman. Although it was but a few minutes, it seemed an 
hour before he found a complacent guardian of the law sleeping 
on a street corner. He told the officer that there was something 
important to be done, whereat the officer became very much 
awake and alert, especially when he saw the uniform of the 
soldier. They came back to the theatre and the soldier led the 
policeman behind the place by an alley, and here they waited. 
Time seemed to pass so slow to the soldier that it almost tor- 
tured him. The policeman's head dropped on his besom and he 
was nodding. The clock in the square struck ten. Then the 
soldier nudged the officer in the side and the latter gave a pon- 
derous snort and awoke. Paul led the way to the back entrance 
of the theatre and went behind the scenes. The players were 
finishing the third act; the next was the fourth, and the last. 

When the third act was over, the actors came back ofi the 
stage on the way to their dressing-room. As they passed Paul 
pointed to one of the actors, the star player, and gave the 
policeman directions: "Follow that man into his dressing- 
room, and, if you can get the key, lock the door on the inside, 
arrest the man, handcuff him, then send his costume for the 
next act to me and I will further instruct you. I command you 
to do those things in the name of the King," and he showed 
the officer the authority which the Prime Minister had given 
him for such an occasion. The policeman stared, for it had just 
penetrated to his dull brain that something of more than usual 
significance was about to take piece. 

(to be Continued.) 





This organization shall be known as the Mississippi Inter- 
Collegiate Oratorical Association. 

ARTICLE II— Objects. 

The objects of this Association shall be to form closer bonds 
of friendship between the leading colleges of the State, to en- 
courage and promote the study and cultivation of oratory in 
these colleges, and to hold annual contests in oratory, and such 
other literary contests, at such times and places as shall be de- 
cided upon by the Association at its annual convention. 

ARTICLE III— Membership. 

Section i. The membership of the Association shall be 
composed of two kinds: College and Personal. 

Sec. 2. The Association is composed of the following col- 
lege membership: University of Mississippi, Agricultural and 
Mechanical College of Mississippi, Mississippi College, Millsaps 
College, and such oiher colleges as shall be admitted by unani- 
mous vote of the members of the A^scciation present at any an- 
nual convention. 

Sec. 3. The personal membership shall be composed of 
the representatives ekcted by the colleges. They shall be the 
active members of the Association for one (i) year immediately 
following the contests in which they take part, when their names 
shall be added to the Alumni roll of the Association. 

ARTICLE IV— Officers. 

Section i. The officers of this Association, shall be a 
President, Vice-President, Secretary and Treasurer — one from 
each of the four colleges now represented in the association 


alternating annually, in the order of the colleges as named. 

Sec. 2. All officers of the Association shall be elected by 
informal ballot, no nominations b-iug made, and the college 
representative receiving a majority vote shall be declared the 
choice of the Association. 

Sec. 3. The President of the Association, on his retire- 
ment from office, and ex-prize men, shall have their names en- 
rolled on the Honor Roll of the Association. 

ARTICLE V — Duties of Officers. 

Section i. It shall be the duty of the President to preside 
at all meetings. He shall be tx officio chairman of the Execu- 
tive Committee, shall be master of the ceremonies at the annual 
contest, shall cast the deciding vote in all cases of a tie in the 
convention and Executive Committee; shall deliver or have de- 
livered all awards to successful contestants; shall attach his sig- 
nature to certificates of membership, and shall have power to 
call special meetings at the written request of a majority of the 
colleges represented in the Association. 

Sec. 2. In case of absence, by request, removal from the 
State, or death of the President, the Vice-President shall be- 
come the active President of the Association. He shall become 
the active chairman of the Executive Committee. 

Sec. 3. The Secretary shall keep in suitable record the 
membership of the Association, both active and alumni, accord- 
ing to the colleges represented; shall keep the honor roll, shall 
keep and file proceedings of the annual conventions and copies 
of the orations delivered in the annual contests; shall sign and 
issue certificates of personal membership upon the order of the 
President, shall attend to such correspondence as may devolve 
upon him, and any other duties the Association may authorize. 

Sec. 4. The Treasurer shall keep all accounts of the Asso- 
ciation and pay all bills approved by the Executive Committee. 
He shall keep on dt;posit all moneys belonging to the Associa- 
tion, shall receive all dues and receipt for same. 

ARTICLE VI— Executive Committee. 

Section i. The President shall appoint annually an Exe- 


cutive Committee consisting of one representative from each 
college having membership in the Association. If the President 
of the Association should be a member of the Executive Com- 
mittee he shall, in case of a tie, have two votes. 

Sec. 2- It shall be the duty of the Executive Committee to 
audit all accounts before they are presented to the Association. 
The Committee shall decide all contests in regard to personal 
membership. The annual contests of the Association shall be 
Tinder the control of the Committee. 

ARTICLE VII.— Committee on decision. 

Section i. Six (6.) persons shall constitute the Commit- 
tee on Decision. The Committee shall be elected annually by 
the Executive Committee, acting with the President of the As- 
sociation, and shall serve only in the contest following their 

Sec. 2. The members of the Committee shall not in any 
way be connected with the colleges represented in the contest 
nor shall three of the committee be selected from the same 
state, and only in case of extreme necessity shall any member 
of the Committee be selected from Mississippi. 

Sec. 3. Any college of the Association shall have the 
Tight to object to any member of the Committee, but not more 
than two objections shall be allowed from any college. All 
objections shall be in writing and in the hands of the Chairman 
of the Executive Committee at least twenty-five (25) da5^s for 
Committee Section A, and five (5) days for Committee S.ction 
B, previous to the contest. 

Sec. 4. The Committee on Decision shall be divided into 
two equal sections, A and B. Section A shall be elected at 
least sixty (60) days previous to the contest, and each college 
of the Association shall be notified as S3on as practicable, of the 
Committee's selection and acceptance. This Committee Sec- 
tion shall grade each oration on the following points: Origin- 
ality, Thought and Rhetoric, Section B shall be selected at least 
ten (10) days previous to the contest. This Committee Sec- 
tion shall grade on Delivery. All points shall rank equally, shall 


be graded without consultation, each member of the committee 
giving one grade, which shall be on the scale of (lOo). 

Sec. 5. The Secretary of the Association, at least twenty 
(20) days before the contest shall forward a type written coppy 
of each oration to each member of the Committee Section A, 
who shall grade them and send sealed copies of their grade to the 
President and Secretary of the Associatton, so as to reach them 
at least two (2) days before the contest, said marks to remain 
sealed until after delivery to Secretary of the sealed marks of 
Committee Section B. Neither the names of the authors of the 
orations, nor the institutions represented, shall be known by 
the members of Committee Section A. 

Sec. 6. At the close of the contest, and in the presence of 
the audience assembled, the President and Secretary shall open 
and take the grades of all members of the Committee for each 
contestant. At 'no other place and time, and under no other 
circumstances whatsoever, on penalty of explusion and exclu- 
sion of college represented, shall the President and Secretary, 
or either, open or have opened, the sealed grades. 

Sec. 7. The grades of each member of the Committee 
shall be marked as i, 2, 3, 4, 5, etc. The orator ranked first 
by four or more judges shall be awarded the first honor place. 
If no orator in this ranked first, the orator, the sum of whose 
rank shall be least is awarded the first honor place. In case of 
a tie, the orator receiving the highest grand average shall re- 
ceive the first honoi place. The first place having been award- 
ed, the grades of the remaining orators shall be ranked as i, 2, 
3, 4, 5, etc., and the second honor place determined in the 
same manner as the first. The President shall then announce 
the result, naming the orator who receives the second honor 
place first, and then the orator who receives the first honor 
place* The markings of the Committee shall be published in 
at least one daily paper. 

ARTICLE VIII— Orations. 
In the contests of this x\ssociation, no oration shall con- 
tain more than two thousand (2000) words, and it shall be the 


duty of the Secretary to construe this article strictly to the 
letter, and to return an^/ oration exceding the above limit. 
Analyses, outline, or explanation shall be considered a part 
thereof, counted and graded accordingly. 

ARTICI.E IX— Representatives. 

Each college of the Association shall be entitled to one (i) 
representative, selected in such manner as each college may 
determine, but at least ninety (90) days before the contest. 
Such representative shall be a member of the literary depart- 
ment exclusively of his institution, and an under graduate at 
the time of his selection. Each r; presentative shall have made 
and forwarded to the Secretary three (3) type-written copies of 
his oration at least twenty five (25) days previous to the con- 
test. All representatives shall be residents of Mississippi and 
resident students of the colleges which they represent. 

ARTICIvE X— Fees. 

Section, i. Each college of the Association shall pay an 
annual fee of ten ($10) dollars. This fee should be paid at 
least thirty (30) days previous to the contest. 

Sec. 2. Each representative shall pay an initiation fee of one 
($1) dollar. Upon the payment of this fee, the treasurer shall 
issue his receipt which shall be forwarded to the President, who 
shall then order the Secretary to issue a ceriificate of member- 
ship in the Association. Any representative who shall fail to 
pay the fee within twenty-five (25) days previous to the contest, 
shall not be allowed to enter contest for prize, 
ARTICLE XI— Prizes. 

As testimonials of success in the contests of this Associa- 
tion, there shall be awarded two prizes: As fitst honor, a gold 
medal; as second honor ten ($10) dollars. 

ARTICLE XII— Conventions. 
Section i. The annual convention of the Association shall 
Convention, there shall be published, by order and direction of 


meet in the afternoon of the day on which the contest is held* 
Each college representative shall be entitled to one (i) vote. 
All representatives who take part in the morning contest, and 
all officers of the Association present, shall attend the Conven- 
tion. Failure to do so, without valid excuse, shall subject 
offender to expulsion. All Alumni members present shall 
have a right to take part in the delibsration of the Convention, 
but shall not be allowied to vote upon any question except to 

Sec. 2 At the expiration of ten (lo) years, counting from 
1896, an Alumni Convention shall be held. Following this 
the Association, the winning orations for the decade, bio- 
graphical sketches, of prizemen. Alumni and honor rolls, the 
proceedings of the Annual Conventions, and such other matters 
pertaining to the Association, as the Committee having this 
publication in charge shall decide upon and deem proper. 

ARTICI/E XIII — ExcivUSiON from Membership. 

Any c jUege of the Association failing to send its quota of 
representatives to any annual contest without furnishing to the 
Executive Committee a satisfactory reason, or shall fail to pay 
its annual dues within the time limit, shall be excluded from 
the Association. 

ARTICLE XIV— Contestants. 

Section i. All contestants shall draw for places on the day 
preceding the contest. His place, name and subject of oration 
alone shall appear on the program. 

Sec. 2. A contestant shall not appear in uniform, or wear 
college colors, medals, pins, etc., and no college banner shall be 
placed in any position whatsoever, during the time of the con- 
test, so as to designate the representative of any college. 

ARTICLE XV— Publications. 

Section I. The Association shall have no ofl&cial organ, 
.t>ut each college of the Association shall publish once in its 


magazine, or college paper, during the term follo^ving the con- 
test, the oration of its representative, a list of oflScers, prize men, 
date and place of next contest, and the Constitution of the Asso- 

Skc. 2. E^ch President of the Association shall have four 
copies of the Constitution published, to be distributed among 
the representatives who are to take part in the contest over 
which he is to preside. 

ARTICLE XVI— Amendments. 

Section i. All questions of parliamentary forms and usage, 
not provided for by the Constitution, shall be referred to "Rob- 
erts' Rules of Order," 

Sec. 2. The Constitution may be amended at any annual 
Convention of the Association, by a two-thirds (^3) vote of the 
college representatives present. 


First Amendment. 

ARTICLE I— Chautauqua. 

Any one who represents his institution in the Mississippi 

Inter- Collegiate Oratorical Contest, pledges himself not to enter 

the oratorical contest at the Chautauqua . 





Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps CoUeg-e 

W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief 

Lamar EasterIvING, Associate Editor 

F. D. Mei^IvEN, Alumni Editor 

D. L. Bingham, Local Editor. 

JOS. H. Penix, Literary Editor. 

H. V. WaTkins, Athletic Editor. 

F. E. GUNTER Business anager 

W. C. Bowman, M. S. Pittman, Assistants 

BemiUances and business communications should he sent to F. E. 
Gunter, Business Manager. Matter intended for puiUcation should be sent 
to W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief. 


Subscriptiou Per annum $1.00. Two Copies $1.50. Per Annum 


The sun of the nineteenth century has gone down 
OUR upon a people destined to live, for the greater part, 
NEW LIFE, in cities; his successor in the twentieth will witness 
their new dwelling place. 
Some view this change from rural to urban conditions with 
alarm; the pessimism of others is almost blasphemous. That the 
new responsibilities are profound and must be f ^It by those solic- 
itous of the general welfare we admit, bat we do not believe that 
the change is necess.arily a change for the worse. Wiser men 
than those whose doleful voices are now heard and whose solemn 
faces are now seen, have looked askance upon what appeared to 
them a prodigal world, leaving the old well-beaten paths for new 
scenes and prophesied that she would go crashing into an abyss 
from some dizzy mountain height; but she has only occasion- 
ally stumped her toe, bounced up, rubbed the dust from her 
eyes and gone on with a merry laugh. 


In the South this change has taken place with marvelous 
rapidity. Let the cause be what it may, the Southern people 
are deserting the farms and building factories, and cities are 
thus being formed and with them problems of the most vexing 
type. One that is being prepared for the S juth's solution is: 
How shall she educate and protect her children bora under 
these new conditions We believe that only as a factor in this 
problem may the negro becoma a menace to the S juth. Can we 
divide our school fund with him and at the same time provide 
school facilities for our own children? Tais seams to us to be 
the negro problem, since popular sentiment insists that we name 
it from its darkest element. We are threatened in the South by 
a condition that has prevailed in the North: An ignorant vote 
set in opposition to an intelligent vote. Southern political life 
is not divided into antagonistic negro and white man, but, unless 
counteracting agencies are set to work, will be divided into 
hampered intelligence and vicious ignorance. Over-crowded 
cities will, as they have done with every people, result in pov- 
erty, squalor, misery, and vice. Children forced to work in 
factories as a part of its machinery are deprived in their plastic 
years of the preserving and ennobling ir.flience of parental care; 
they are kept too busy in the sustenance of mere physical life to 
develop normally into useful members of society. Bjth ignorant 
and immoral, they become the most effective tools for the polit- 
ical boss. 

Another danger is to be found in the kind of education that 
is generally considered as alone necessary for the youth to meet 
the new demands. He enters a technical school before he has 
been instructed in the common schools. He becomes a mere 
machine and a slave to his profession, for the only world to any 
man is the world he knows. It circumscribes bis scene of 
action; it alone is the stage of bis activities. We are not 
opposed to technical education. On the c mtrary, we believe 
that only through specialization of study will the greatest truths 
be found. But we are opoosed to sacrificing breadth of char- 
acter to higher wages. The technical school not only fails to 
develop a good citizen, but it fails to guarantee him "a good 
living," because a man who knows only one trade is not sure of 
steady employment. 


There are two ways by which these dangers can be avoided: 
(i) The ratio between the urban and rural cit-z=nship must be 
kept reasonable. (2) The citizenship must inform themselves 
on municipal government, that they may meet the new 

In order to keep a reasonable ratio between urban and 
rural population, rural life must be made more inviting. The 
privileges and advantages of urban life must be carried, so far as 
is possible, into the country. Many families leave the farms in 
order to educate their children. The rural public schools must 
be improved by "rural consolidation," adoption of uniform text- 
books, better paid teachers, or by any other means possible and 
practicable. Rural free delivery, carrying newspapers and 
magazines into remote rural districts, must be extended, and the 
press advantages of the city thus afforded the country. Public 
libraries must be established in every village and hamlet, and 
the country folk enabled to sit at the feet of the world's greatest 
teachers. Telephone stations must be established in easy reach 
of the people. Modern inventions which facilitate and dignify 
farm labor must be introduced. 

Our educational system must be one which instructs the 
child in those things which are lasting and eternal, as opposed 
to those which are ephemeral and transient. It must build 
characters who will be citizens of a free commonwealth and 
makers of world history and not mere parts of a machine. 
American life is already sufficiently ''stremwus,'' the tension is 
high enough; American character needs to be softened by 
thought and meditation. Food-bringing education is essential, 
because there is physical hunger; but there is a soul hunger 
that is not a whit the less real, and so there must be soul- 
sustaining education. The technical schools must require an 
entrance examination which will necessitate a common school 
course for the successful applicant. Factories must not be 
allowed to employ children only on the condition that the child 
attend school a reasonable number of hours each day. Only by 
the aid of a broader intelligence and a higher code of ethics will 
we be enabled to successfully deal with the complex problems of 
our new and wonderful life. 




On the whole, we have been very well pleased with the ex- 
changes of the past month. There has been a decided change, 
we think, for the better in most of them. The genial influence 
of {Spring has given them new life and caused them to blossom 
into song and story. The interest ^of the students in their col- 
lege papers, as can be seen from the increased quantity and va- 
riety of the contributions, has been quickened and vivified. 
This is a hopeful and encouraging sign of progress, and one that 
will give much pleasure to all exchange editors, no doubt. For 
hardly anything gives the ex-man more genuine pleasure than 
to open a large, well filled magazine, like the University of Va. 
Magazi7ie or the Emory Phcenix, in which is to be found a large 
variety of articles, bespeaking a strong and healthy interest 
among the student bodies, as well as a wide range of talent and 
taste. On the other hand, none feel so keenly the disappoint- 
ment at opening a meagre, scrappy paper with hardly anything 
in it beyond a purely local nature. 

It is with much pleasure that we add the Buff and Blue to 
our exchange list. As can be seen at a glance, this is a most 
noteworthy publication in every respect. Its neat and attract- 
ive cover constitutes a most faithful index to the literary charac- 
ter of its contents. The departments are carefully edited and 
not overdrawn. They refltct much praise upon their respect- 
ive editors. The Exchange Department, we think, is good 
enough to merit larger print. 

"Old Howdye Do and Goodbye" is a pathetic story shortly 
and concisely told. The characters, Ruth and Stephen, com- 
mand cur sympathy and respect, the former for the loyalty to 
her promise, the other for the depth and steadfastness of his 
love. lycaves from a Journal" is humorous and assuring, 
with much originality about it. Such articles add much vigor 
and Ireshue&s to a magazine and serve to break the monotony of 


more serious productions. A keen sense of humor is certainly a 
desirable trait of mind. The one lone piece of verse is worthy 
of praise, more poetry would improve this puplication. We 
number the Buff ayid Blue among our most valuable exchanges. 

The Randolph Macon- Monthly (Oakland, Va,,) still contiues to 
give satisfaction. Poetry, essays, and fiction all come in for 
their share of attctsticn, and thus the proper equipoise of vari- 
ety is secured, "Friendship" is a thoughtful and sensible pro- 
duction which brings before us very forcibly some noble concep- 
tions of life. The writer is certainly right in saying that friend- 
ship of a noble kind is not restricted to persons of the same sex. 
"Two Boys — and a Story" is an interesting and well told story 
which is all the more pleasing as it shows much originality in 
plot. "Poe, the S:ory Writer," gives us a truthful dilineation 
of some of Poe's chief qualities as a short story writer. In this 
the writer shows a genuine appreciation of his genius as well as 
much knowledge of his works. "Nauire's Law" is a beautiful 
and poetic piece of verse, both in sentiment atsd in diction. So 
also are "A Plantation Medley" and the S )nnet to "Shakes- 
peare." We like the way the exchange department is conduct- 
ed* The criticisms are exceedingly just and fair-minded, and 
show much literary judgment and good taste. 

The I^iterary Department of the Vox Wesleyana, (Winnepeg 
Manitoba) contains some good reviews and literary criticisms. 
' John Wesley's Journal" is another good article which gives a 
good ins'ght into, and appreciation of this great work. F;ction 
and poetry wou'd add much lo this piper iu the way of interest 
and would make it moie truly representative of a many sided 
and versatile student body. Pr ze contests f )r v^rse and story 
might be used to advantage in stimulating contributions. 

There has been a decided improvement, we think, in the 
Twentieth Centiay Taler, (Memphis, Teuu). The appearance 
is neat and attractive. This issue (M^arch) brings to us a larger 
and fuller table of contents, containing two c-siys, a story, and 


one lone poem. "Macbeth," though the subject has been 
somewhat extensively dealt with of late ia other mag'^zines, is, 
nevertheless, written in a pleasing style and holds the attention 
of the reader. "The Wiicii Agency" is another carefully 
prepared essay. The writer's views as to the true nature of the 
witches in Macbeth, is certainly the correct cue. The laler, 
as a whole is bright, newsy, and iu every x^ay attractive, and 
reflects much credit upon its enterprising and efficient srafi. 

The chief fault we find with the Lesbiddiayi, is, that it is 
too meagre, — what there is of it, is bright, newsy, and well 
written — and of course interesting The only essay in it, 
"Watch Thy Tongue," is carefully prepared, and shows much 
research. In it are to be fouud sooie some high and ennobling 
seniiments, which are borne out and strengthened by many ap- 
propriate quotations. We note, however, that the quotation 
marks are absent from the quotation from Carlyle, beginning 
"Fool." L,et US timidly suggest that a story or two and more 
verse would serue to increase the merit oi this magazine, as well 
as add an additional interest. The Exchange Department of 
this magazine is the most extensively conducted as well as the 
best in it. The editor contrives to make it interesting with well 
thought out criticisms and ouiside information. We congratu- 
late her and the other members of the staff. 

Since he the last issue of the Collegian, we wish to 
ackno7>'ledge the receipt of the following much appreciated 
exchanges also: Hendrix College Mirror, Southwestern Univer- 
sity Magazijie, Hillrnan Lisbidelian^ The Twentieth Century 
Tattler, College Reflector, Randolph Macon Monthly, Cri7nson 
and Gold, Olive and Blue, Revielle, Univ. of Va Magazine^ 
Vox Wesleyan, The Alpha, Maroo7i and White, Parker Purple, 
Emory and Henry Era, Emory Phoenix.. Clionian. Deaf Mutt 
Voice, University Miss. Magazine , Purple and Green, Buff and 
Blue, Lemestone Star, Miss. College Magazine, Hendrix College 




Sweet emblems of purity unknown to earth, 
They wake the soul of man to aspirations fair, 

And fill the palace aye, the cot of meanest worth — 
With fragrance like the incense of an angel's prayer. 

So fragile all, so weak, they seem a tempting prey 
To every hostile gale — each hand untaught of ruth, 

But ab! the spoiler e'en should know that in the day 
That beauts dies, the world must die to love and truth. 

Fit consorts these of faith and prayer and holy praise; 

Mute worshipers and witnesses of Him above. 
Whose skill can wed to matchless glory simplest grace, 

And veil in wondrous art the mysteries of love. 

J. W. Wayland in Univ. of Va. Magazine. 


In the opaline haze of the evening. 

As the lingering twilight dies, 
Wandering with you in the shadows. 

And mute at the love in your eyes — 
Before love that I never can fathom. 

Whose depths I can only surmise — 
Heaven, why yearn for thy glories? 

I have entered ray paradise. — Ex. 


Jos. H. Penix Editor. 


The record of the South is in some senses unique. Never, 
perhaps, in any constitutional government was a section so 
large and so closely bound, both politically and geographically 


to tke federal body, yet having developed a race and institu- 
tions so peculiar as to induce war, the avowed purpose of which 

was to establish a separate government never before was 

Siich a section again thoroughly assimilated by the federal 

Indeed, the war itself, its causes and its results, are unique 
in the history of all nations. The records of time afford no 
parallel; there is no precedent to which we may compare them, 
no example by which we may jadge them. By the strict inter- 
pretion of all antecedent appeals to arms, the War between the 
States was an anomaly. Ic certaialy was not a revjlutioa in the 
strict sense ot the word, for its primary purpose never was to 
overthrow the existing goverament nor to superimpose its 
peculiar political and social institutions oi those of the contend- 
ing section. Much farther did it differ from ordinary insurrec- 
tion, since the number engaged in it formed such a large part 
of the whole nation. And thoagh in a strange signification of 
the word a noted Northern historian has said that the defeat of 
"State Sovereignty" demonstrated, ethically, its unrighteous- 
ness, it is the rather tacit yet general opinion of the ablest and 
fairest-minded statesman and constitutional lawyers of to day 
that this doctrine was the correct o le. This admitted, the war 
could not have been a rebellion, for rebellion is not the act of 
sovereignty, but an act directed against sovereignty, and thus 
the North itself might be questioned on the act of revolution 
in restraining the states from secession. Hence, the struggle 
remains unclassified in the annals of nations. It was a peculiar 
war, arising from peculiar causes and conditions, and leaving a 
peculiar impress on the South which has differentiated its his- 
tory from all others. 

Especially is the chapter on reconstruction one which was 
rever written by the chronicler of any other race or government. 
"What remained of a race conquered by dearth and virtual ex- 
termination returned to a country deprived of the institution 
which its needs and conditions had developed, and the loss of 
which, therefore, necessitated an inversion of customs, voca- 
tions and policies, yea, the transformation of the Southern race. 


To tbis seeming impossibility was added the black ashes of 
war's holocaust to dauut the spirit of the south. But this was 
not worst. The greatest blunder-crime in civilized historj 
was the coercion of the South bv heartless and senseless 
strangers who, as she lay lame and bleeding from a wound al* 
most mortal, lashed her more fearfully and pitilessly than ever 
an overteer lashed a slave. At last the New South has arisen 
from the tomb of the Old; but it h^s been reconstructed by its 
own sons aad not by the obtrusion of aliens. Southern life 
has been turned into ntw channels. From no resources save 
strong hearts and a fertile soil, from a blasted political organi- 
zation, and while contending with the most serious sccial prob- 
lem that ever engaged any people, there has been reared a new 
civilization, a flourishing section. 

The South has perhaps been too busily engaged in making 
history to find time for writing it. Perhaps, too, though firmly 
believing in the rectitude of its course, that depression which 
always follows failure has had its it fluence here. Perhaps the 
feeling has prevailed that it belongs to the victor to tell the 
tale of the vavquished. However it may have been, certainly 
the history of the South, that part which has b en attempted, 
has generally been told by other than her own sons. 

Mr. Burgess, one of the greatest of living historians and 
political scientists, says that the history of the Uoited States 
from 1817 to 1858 can be written orly by a Northerner, because 
the victor can and will be more liberal, generous and sympa- 
thetic than the vanquished, and becau-^e the Northern view is, 
in the main, correct; and while we hesitate to accept this state- 
ment without further qualification and explanation, we feel that 
even if this be granted, yet the following cogent statement of a 
noted historian certainly demands ;^our consideiatioa. "The 
history of the reconstruction must be written by Southerners 
who were the ultimate victors in that life and death struggle." 
As has been said already, this is the most peculiar chapter in 
our national, and more especially in southern history. The war 
was a Titanic test of the breaking-strength of the greatest re- 
public ever established; and when the mighty tension was re- 
leased by its close, the strain in the bond of nationality was far 


from mended. It has taken a generation to weld to its former 
strength what four years had all but snapped asunder. The 
very uniqueness of thii process makes its history one of special 
interest. The same thing makes it impossible for anyone to 
write and ihterpret its history save some one who ha^ been a part 
of it ia his experience and observatioa. And now is the time 
to gather the materials for this record. Time has borne us far 
enough from the strife to divest us of the passions and miscon- 
ceptions of that period, and yet we are near enough to gather at 
first hand from original sources, and especially from the testi- 
mony of living men, the details of the time, its dramatic pic- 
turesque, and vital aspec'^, its ultimate rel-.ticns with the prob- 
lems, racial, educational and economic, with which the South of 
today has to deal. Nothing, it seems to us, can do more to 
hasten the harvest of that more perf-^rct unity which is rapidly 
making the United States of today mis-ress of the world ihan a 
thorough and adtqiiate account of this great fratiicidal strife, 
its causes, its incidents and its sequel. Amid txisting condi- 
tions, the Sjuth c rtai:ily has a right to be custodian of her own 
records, for she alone has the opportunity of securing, digesting, 
arranging and interpreting these records in a thoroughly scien- 
tific spirit, and of combining practical experience with the 
theories of sociology, political science and political economy. 

It is for this most interesting and profitable task that the 
younger generation is being trained. The spirit of science and 
the balm of time are curing men of tne'.r passions and preju- 
dices, and they have set to work for the sake of truth alone, 
confident alter rtfl^ction of many years that the truth, of itself, 
will justify the thoughts and actions of their fathers. Maryland 
has published nineteen volumes of her Colonial and Revolu- 
tionary Archives. Virginia is preparing a roster of her volun- 
teers in the Civil War, and has published a calendar of her 
State papers. North Carolina has issued seventeen volumes of 
her Colonial Records. South Carolina has secured thirty- two 
volumes of her Colonial Records ia England and prepared a 
roster of her Confederate soldiers, and a "Roster and Itinerary" 
of her soldiers in the Spanish-American War. Several years 


a^o, Alabama created a Department^ of Archives and History. 
Mississippi has made an appropriation for publication under 
the direction of the Historical Commission. Texas has sent a 
commission to the City of Mexico to examine important docu- 
ments there. 

The Historical Association of Mississippi deserves special 
mention. It has a large and enthusiastic membership, has 
already published m^ny valu^ib'e records and proceedings, and 
has just issued the first of its annaal publications. It carries on 
Literary 2 

a thorough and svstemUic search for and examination of man- 
uscripts, papers, and all documents relating to the history of the 
State, extending its study to prehistoric works, Indian remains, 
and places of historic interest. 

The Southern Historical S )ciety, with headquarters at Rich- 
mond, has issued twenty-eight volumes which deal with the 
Civil War; and the Siuthern Historical Association at Wash- 
ington issues bi-monthly pnb'ic^tio is. This work is being aided 
by increased facilities for historical study, by legilaative appro- 
priations for Ciirrying it on, and the greatly increased interest in 
the subj 'ct which has been aroused in Southern colleges and 

Thus the South is doing work of increasing importance and 
significance in coUectiug the materials formerly unknown or 
neglected, which will make possible a history of the United 
States wherein she shall claim her just place in the govern- 
ment, shall vindicate still more fally the prudence and bravery 
of her people and her leaders, ani the justness of their viewt 
and actions in the past. The most perfect fruit of this zeal 
and interest in Southern history, the most significent earneit 
of what we may hope for it in the future, is seen in Woodrow 
Wilson's ^/.y/cr)/ of the American People. It seems to approxi- 
mate more nearly than any other work an impartial yet thor- 
oughly philosophic interprets :ion of the birth and life of the 
nation. Dr. Wilson, by his Southern birth, broad learning, 
marked literary ability and present high position as president of 
one of the oldest American universities, is eminently fitted for 


the task of showing the place of the South in the national 
structure; and no one can read his chapter on Reconstruction 
without feeling that in him she has found a chronicler who will 
tell aright to the world the tale of her struggles, failures and 
ultimate successes. 


D. L. BINGAM, Editor. 

Dr. Murrah attended the District Conference held at Sardis 
during the month. 

Mr. W. A. Williams has been qaite sick with icfiimmatory 
rheumatism for the past three weeks. We regret to say that he 
is as yet no better. 

Mr. Charles G. Carter of Hattiesburg has withdrawn from 

We neglected to note in the former issue the election of Mr. 
H. B. Heidelberg of the Galloway Society to fill the place on the 
Commencement debate made vacant by the resignation of Mr. 

Mr. Eugene Johnson of Holly Springs spent a few days with 
his brother, "Cap," during the past month. 

E. H. Galloway, 'oo, has finished the medical course at 
Vanderbilt, and is now a full-fledged M. D. He has located at 

Jim — "I do not believe that I have a true friend in the 
world." Jack — "So you have been trying to borrow muney, too, 
have you?" 

Mr. W. B. Hogg, of Hazlehurst has entered school. He is 
a member of the freshman class and a base ball player of fame. 

The banquets given by the two fraternities during the month 
ivere quite elaborate affairs and enjoyed by all present. 


Rev. T, B. Holloman of Itta Bena and his son, I^eon, were 
pleasant visitors to the Campus during the month. 

Dr. I, W. Cooper spent a day with his brother last week. 
Dr. Cooper is a graduate of the University of Nashville Medical 

We are glad to report Prof. Shannon fully recovered after 
an illness of a week. 

Messrs. Beard and Milligan, of Evansville, Indiana, spent 
a week with Mr. Joe Sample the first of the month. 

The following are the new cfi&cers of the Lamar Literary 
Society: President, W. C. Bownan; Vice-Pres., Hendon Har- 
ris; Secy., J. J. Burnham; Cri ic, C. R. Ridgway; Doorkeeper, 
Hubey Rachfoid, Chaplain, M. S. Pittman. 

Mr. J. B. Howell, '02, who has been studying medicine at 
Vanderbilt, spent Saturday and Sunday with us. 

Miss Kathryne Redding, of Crystal Springs, is the guest of 
her Aunt, Miss Annie Linfield. 


Vol. 5. JACKSON, MISS., MAY, 1903. No. 8. ^ 


The story which I am going to relate for the sake of a few 
serious readers dates back to the year of 1847, the time when 
the northern part of the beautiful land of Mexico was devastated 
by cruel, merciless war. The exact date of my story is in the 
latter part of the month of -February, 1847, just before the great 
battle of Buena Vista. Up to this time the Americans had been 
successful. The army of Gen. Taylor had gained the advantage 
in several decisive engagements, but none the less daunted the 
sons of Mexico had rallied under their bold and determined 
leader, Santa Anna, to strike another blow for the cause of their 

Gen. Taylor having received an intimation that this shrewd 
Mexican general was collecting an army to intercept his marclt 
through Mexico, thought it prudent to send scouts ahead to 
determind the whereabouts of the enemy. I was then captain 
of Company B of the Fourth Regiment, and being in the good- 
graces of the general, I kno>v not exactly why, he chose me. 
among the other scouts to go on this hazardous undertaking. 

It was then time for action aud not for ceremony; so with- 
out making any excuses I chose two old backwoodsmen to. 
accompany me, and prepared to start on this impori-aat mission.. 

The men whom I chose to go with me were Daniel Travis, 
and Michael Simpson. They were both skilled in woodcraft 
and all the arts of the plain and forest. Daniel Travis, whom, 
we all called "Dan" for shorf, was especially skilled in these, 
arts. No problem of the plain or forest ever presented itself but. 
his shrewd mind could devise some way to solve it. And. 
besides all this, I knew them both to be true and tried friends^ 
so with such men as my companions, I felt sure that we would 
be in little danger of the Mexican Guerillas or Comanche 


Indians which infested the country at that time. Therefore we 
made preparations to leave with the anticipation that we would, 
with the aid of the other scouts, soon thwart the plans of the 
shrewd Mexican general, if he should be anywhere in the neigh- 
boring country. 

We left the army early in the morning and began our jour- 
ney across the plains. We traveled for several miles without 
seeing any signs of the enemy, and in a short while came to a 
dense forest which seemed to be about two miles in width. We 
entered this immediately, and began a laborious journey through 
the dense undergrowth. It now became necessary for us to 
travel more cautiously on account of the possibility of an 
ambush, and after about an hour's journey we came within sight 
of the opposite side. My companions deeming it prudent for 
one of us to go ahead of the rest and inspect tne plains beyond 
the edge of the forest, I agreed to take the d ity upon myself; 
so dismounting and taking my rifle in my hand, I approached 
the edge of the forest on foot. 

I had hardly gained a suitable position from which to over- 
look the plains, when the sound of galloping hoofs almost 
directly in front of me attracted my attention. Raising my eyes 
and looking in the direction whence the sound came, I saw 
someone on horseback riding at full speed almost directly toward 
me. The rider had just emerged from a clump of trees and was 
now plainly discernable. I was at first surprised slvA somewhat 
puzzled at the sight whici mot m^ eyes, for on th:? fleeing horse 
I could plainly discern, wiihoat doub-, a ftmtle figure! As I 
Stood wondering at the oddness of the situation a second figure 
hove in sight, riding at full speed dirvcily in the trail of the 
first. I was then no longer in wonder. The mystery was 
solved; for on the hindmost horse was the figure of an Indian 
warrior. The girl had evidently been out on the chase when 
the redskin saw her, and thinking this a fair prizi, he had given 
chase with the intention of carrying her back to camp to be sold 
to someone of his tribe as a wife or probably kept as his own. 
With a sudden apprehension that I might be detected, I clasped 


my rifle with a firm grip and concealed myself in a clump of 
bushes near by to await developments. 

Oa came the pursuer and pursued, each straining every 
nerve to overcome the other in the chase. It was evidently the 
end of a long chase, for both horses seemed stiff and weary. 
For a moment the girl and her pursuer seemed to be about 
equally mounted. The race was indecisive. But as they drew 
nearer I could plainly see that the foremost animal was growing 
weaker. His soble efforts could only prolong his mistress' fate, 
for the Indian's horse was gaining at every stride! 

I had now made up my mind to save the girl from her ter- 
rible enemy. I thought first of sending a bullet through his 
head, but on a second thought changed my purpose. Although 
we were at war with t'ne Indians, my sense of honor forbnde me 
shooting an enemy down in an unfair way; so that I decided to 
learn him a lesson which he would not soon forget. 

He was now within seventy-five yards of where I lay con- 
cealed and no more than fifteen from the fleeing girl. He was 
straining every muscle to overtake his victim ere she could 
reach the forest. Probably he feared there might be aid near at 
hand. It is not often that the keen eye of the Indian fails to 
detect danger, but this redskin was so much absorbed in the 
chase that he did not see me in my place of concealment. I 
determined, nevertheless, to make him aware of my presence. 
Suddenly I saw him raise his hand with something coiled about 
it. It was a lasso. I saw him hurl the coiled rope once about 
his head. A? he did I raised my rifle to my shoulder and took 
deliberate aim at his upraised arm. He hurled the lasso once 
again about his head, and was almost in the act of throwing, 
A second's delay and I might be too late. Glancing down the 
barrel of my rifle to make sure of my aim, I pressed the trigger. 
A sharp report followed. The next instant a wild Comanche 
whoop echoed through the forest. I knew that my bullet had 
sped true to the mark. For a moment a cloud of wnite smoke 
shut the sceiie from my vision; but when the smoke cleared 
away, I -aw that the Indian had wheeled his horse about and 
was gaiu.piDg back across the plains. 


My companions, hearing the shot, now came up, leading 
my iaithful horse. They lost no words inquiring why I had 
fired the shot. To their experienced senses, the wild yell and 
the retreating form of the Indian spoke plainer than words; so 
I mounted my horse, and without parley, we rode up to the 
bewildered girl, who had checked her horse and now stood 
gazing at us. 

As we approached her I was completely charmed by the 
dazzling beauty which she possessed. I had traveled a great 
deal in Mexico and seen many fair specimens of its glorious 
womanhood, but never before had I seen one to equal this 
queenly beauty. Her brunette complexion, her long raven 
tresses, her shapely head and figure, combined to give the 
maiden a surpassing loveliness. 

"Was it you?" she asked, turning suddenly to me as we 
rode up. "Was it you who saved my life?" 

"It was I who fired the shot," I said, paying more atten- 
tion to the charming girl than to what I was saying. I was on 
the point of introducing myself and my friends when she inter- 
rupted me: 

"But you are an enemy to my country. You wear an 
American uniform," she continued in Spanish, a language with 
which I was perfectly familiar. 

"That is true," I said; "but if all my enemies were as 
agreeable as the one before me, I should almost feel inclined to 

"Allow me to thank you for the compliment, Senor, and 
humbly beg your pardon for my hasty words," she resumed, 
suddenly changing her tone and expression. "I am not as 
simple and prejudiced as my words seemed to indicate. I was 
only excited and spoke rashly. I am conscience of the fact, 
Senor, that before gallantry, especially in a woman's eye, all 
the petty hate and prejudice between foe and foe must dwindle 
into insignificance. You have done me a service for which I 
can never repay you; you have saved me from a fate worse than 
death; so let us forget our enmity, Senor, and become friends. 
My name is Anita Moreto." 


"Mj' name is Randolf," I said, as soon as she had finished 
speaking. "I am captain of Company B of the Fourth Regi- 
ment in General Taylor's army, and am now on an arrand for 
the general. These are my friends, Dan Travis and Michael 
Simpson," I continued, turning to Dan and Michael, who had 
drawn up their horses close beside me. My companions bowed 
in acknowledgment to the introduction, without speaking a 
word. They were each familiar with the Spanish language to 
some extent, but did not seem inclined to talk on this occasion. 
I concluded that they were either somewhat abashed on being in 
the presence of a lady, or that they disdained to speak in wnat 
Dan often termed "that cussed Mexikin squabble." So I made 
use of the first supposition, partially to pay my friends a com- 
pliment and partially to relieve their seeming discomfiture. 

"My comrades are as bold in battle as they are timid in the 
peserce of ladies," I said, casting a side glance at them to 
ascertain the effect of my words. Dan cleared his throat and 
was preparing to justify himself and Michael as best he could 
under the circumstances, when Anita interrupted him: 

"Yes," she said, "the Americans are all a brave and chiv- 
alrous people. I have hitherto been unjustly prejudiced against 
the Texans, but after this I shall defend Texan gallantry 
wherever I hear it assailed." 

"But I lose time," she said, suddenly turning her steed 
about and glancing at the sun. "I must be going, for it is now 
past noon. If I remain longer, my father will be alarmed about 
my safety. Come, Senor Randolf, and ride v^ith me to the haci- 
enda just across the forest. There my fatber will repay you for 
the service you have rendered me." 

This invitation, so innocently extended, to ride with one so 
beautiful, was perhaps one of the greatest temptations of my life 
to turn me from the path of duty. I knew that the fate of the 
army might depend upon my com ades and me, and that the 
failure to do my duty at such acriiical time might mean its ruin. 
There stocd beside me the brave, sagacious Dan and the bold 
and dauntless Michael. Why not intrust the duty to them? I 
had been with them in a score of battles; I knew that they were 


as true at steel. But to leave them at such a critical time, when 
the army of Santa Anna might be near, was not to act the part 
of a loyal soldier, and besides it might take every man of us to 
cope with the scouts of the enemy if we should happen upon 
them. So with these reflections in my mind, and knowing also 
that Anita would be in no peril when once beyond the forest, I 
declined the invitation as best I could under the circumstances, 
and turned my steed about as if to ride away. 

"Then; Captain, you will surely come to the dance at the 
hacienda tonight, won't you?" she said in sweet, entreating 

I promised that I would, hardly considering what such a 
promise implied, I was in such a state of perplexity." 

"Then may God be with you and >our friends," she ex- 
claimed, and in an instant she had wheeled her horse about and 
disappeared through the forest. 

After scouting all the rest of the day, we returned to the 
army without having seen anything of she enemy. 

Feeling that I had done my duty for the day, I determined to 
spend at least a portion of the night in a more pltasant manner 
than sleeping on the cold ground; so after eating sapper I set 
cut for the hacienda, which was several miles away. 

I suspect that by this time the reader has gotten the idea, 
that I fell desperately in love with this beautiful Mexican girl. 
Truth, however, forces me to state that I did not. I admired; 
yea, I almost worshiped her marvelous beauty, but never once 
thought of her as a lover. She was to me as a costly 
gem whose radiance strikes with as brilliant effect upon 
the eye, but is unable to stir the nobler passions of the soul. 
Thtrtfore, with what motive I sought another meeting with 
Anita, at the risk of my life, I am almost unable to say. It is 
true that under the impulse of the moment I had promised to 
attend the dance. I began also to realize that it would be an 
injustice to one, who seemed to have been thrown across my 
path by providence, not to comply with her earnest request be- 
fore I left that country to which I might never return. I was 
not ignorant of the fact that the country through which I would 


have to travel was infested with Mexican guerilla^?, and that 
they would have little mercy oa me as a Texas captain. But, 
whatever might haye been the prevailiog motive which prompt- 
ed me to go or the discretion of the act, at the end of about an 
hour's brisk riding, I found myself in front of the hacienda, in 
which I heard the sound of revelry and dancing. 

Dismounting and and hitching my horse, I strolled leisurely 
up the walk leading to the entrance of the building. In a few 
moments I was v/alking up the stone steps of the veranda. I 
did not tsrry on the steps, but walked immediately across to the 
doorway. When I reached it, I recognized Anita in a small 
crowd standing just inside the hall. A swarthy Spaniard was 
standing beside her — her lover no d^mbt She recognized me as 
soon as I caught her eye, and extended her hand in a hearty 
welcome. She then introduced me to the swarthy Spaniard 
who stood beside her, as Raffael Bernardo. I extended my 
hand and he grasped it apparently in friendship, but as I glanced 
at his swarthy visage, upon which the marks of crime were 
deeply indented, I saw his eye gleam with a malignant fire. 
There was no mistaking that vicious glance; Raffael Bernardo 
was my deadly enemy. 

After walking about the room for a short while, chatting 
with Anita an several other Mexican beauties to whom I had 
been introduced, I began to enj iy myself very much The 
pleasant company which I was in soon smoothed the rough, un- 
polished nature of the soldier to that of a fine gcn.leman of soci- 
ety. As I said, I was passing the time very pleasantly in 
this gay crowd; but, still, tver and anon a grim-visaged counte- 
nance would pass before my mental vision like a threatening 
cloud. It;was the countenance of Rsffael Bernaddo. And what 
was more, he had disappeared from the crowd. He was no lon- 
ger to be seen amid the throng of dancers. 

At length Anita and I, as if by instinct, drew near each 
other and began a conversation. I saw that her face wore a 
troubled expression. She was evidently in anxiety about some- 
thing. At her suggestion we walked out upon the veranda and 
took a seat where we would not be overheard by anyone, and ia 


iew moments T had found out the cause of her anxiety. She told 
me of how Raffael Bernardo had lately given evidences of being 
in love with her and how she detested his attention. She also 
told me that he had heard about the "Yankee" Captain savin .5 
her life, and became terribly jealous. She said that she thought 
he intended to murder me, and urged me to leave the place at 
cnce; aid what was my surprise, she asked that she might be 
■ allowed to go with me. She foHowed this request with a suddeu 
outburst of passionate feeling. She vowed that I had won her 
heart — completely, although we had known each other but a few 
hours. She that declared I was nearer her conception of a true 
•■^man and an ideal lover than any one she had ever known, and 
requested that I allow her to follow me through life to minister 
to my wants and to soothv- my troubles and sorrows, 

I told her that this could never be; that my sword was my 
my only fortune, and that she would never be satisfied in leading 
the life that I led. I tried to couvince her that her's was a 
childish passion. She remained obstinate however; aud no words 
•of mine could convince her that she did not love me truly. 

At length I looked at my watch. The hour h'-ud stood at 
twelve on the dial. I noticed that during our conversation the 
crowd had dispersed unheeded. The lamps were still lighted, 
but from the hall there came uo sound to indicaie that anyone 
was present. Everything was as still as death. 

"I must go," I said, at last summonsing courage enough to 
speakthe words. Anita gave a deep sigh. As I rose to my feet 
I beard a slight rustle in the bushes at the opposite end ot the 
veranda, end the next instant a dark form sprang up the steps 
and glided towards me with a swift, stealthy tread. 
r'A^ The perils of my situation now flashed across my brain. 
For as the advancing figure stepped upon the veranda, the flick- 
ering light of a candle in an adjoining room fell across his coun- 
tenance. I recognized him in an instant. It was Rafael Ber- 
nado. In his hand flashed the blade of a Spanish stiletto; in his 
eye flashed the fire of murder. 

I knew that I was in for a struggle. Whipping out my cavalry 
sabre, I prepared to defend myself as best I could. I was not a 



second too soon; for I had hardly drawn my sword when he 
rushed upon me with the ferocity of a tiger. With one blow of 
my heavy weapon I knocked the stiletto from his hand. As I 
struck the blow, he sprang back and uttered a shrill whistle, 
which echoed through the whole building. The echoes had 
hardly died away when at least a half dozen dark forms sprang 
up the steps and advanced swiftly toward me. 

The perils of my situation were now obvious. To remain 
meant instant death. To flee was my only chance. So leaning 
over Anita's chair and imprinting a parting kiss, I sprang from 
the veranda aud fled. I knew where mv horse was hitched. 
Running to where he was, I mounted without looking bick at 
my pursuers. 

Once upon my noble steed I felt safe, for I kne?? that with 
a few strides he could carry me out of danger; so I determined 
to look once more upon the scene I had so recently left before I 
had passed beyond sight of it forever. As I turned in ray sad- 
dle and looked back a vision of gloty mtt my eyes. There in the 
light of the chandelier, as immovable as the stone walls of the hac- 
ienda, with a'painful look of anxiety on her face, g?zing intently 
in the diiection which I had fled, stood Anita. She seemed a 
hundred times more beautiful than ever before. With her long 
disheveled tresses fallen about her shoulders, standing erect with 
queenly grace, although in dispair, she suggested to ma the 
statute of a Grecian goddess. But while I sat gazing at her the 
sound of advancing footsteps reminded me of my danger. Turn- 
ing in my saddla I put ^pur to my horse and fled. It was the 
last time I ever saw Aniia, and thus I ever afterwards remem- 
bered her: how she looked, standing in the light of the chande- 
lier, so stately and so beautiful, yet as immovable as the stone 
walls about her. 

I suppose that I had ridden about an hour when the chal- 
lege of a sentry broke the reverie into which I bad fallen about 
my late experience. I gave the countersign and passed into the 
lines. As my eyes fell upon the long glittering rows of stacked 
arms and the thousands of war- worn veterans who slep beside 
them, I felt that I was once more one among my comrades, 


to share with them their hardships and join with them in their 
songs of victory. 

Although I felt that I must again conform to the iron rules 
of war, ani like my comrades respond to the thrilling notes of 
the trumpet and march to the throbbing drum-beat, I did not for- 
get Anita. But that night before I lay dawa to snatch a few 
hours sleep in order that I might be able to renew the march on 
the next day, I breathed a silent prayer that the angel of peace 
might follow Anita along the path of life, snd at last kiss down 
the eyelids in the sleep of death; tr;at heaven might be her home 
for eternity. 


In the northern part of Mississippi there is a large, marshy- 
swamp, covered by a broad causeway, supposed to have been 
first built by General Andrew Jackson on his famous march from 
New Orleans, through Mississippi, to Tennessee. This swamp 
is clothed with a dense growth of vines and saplings, with every 
now and then a tall cypress or live-oak, covered with moss, to 
add to the weirdness of the scenery. A beautiful creek has its 
source here that goes by the name of Peddler Creek; the swamp 
is called Peddler Swamp. Many ghost stories are told about the 
place, and the negroes have a horror of crossing it after dark. 

The marsh is so boggy that it is impossible to cross it except 
on the causeway. Many is the time that men, venturing out in 
it by jumping from root to root, would miss their aim and sink 
waist-deep, or probably neck-deep, in the mire for their trouble, 
and would have to have help in order to extricate them.>;elves. 

I was traveling in that part of the counrry when I was a 
young man, and one evening I found the sun sinking very fast 
and I had not found a place of lodging for the night. As night 
approached I noticed a heavy bank of clouds rising out of the 
west. It took no prophet to tell what that meant. I hurried 


along as fast as possible, in order to find shelter before the storm 
should overtake me. Sundown was followed almost immediately 
by darkness, and I soon found that I was in the middle of a 
dense swamp, lit up by the occasional flashes of lightning. As 
soon as I had crossed the swamp I saw several lights. I knew 
somebody lived there; so I pushed on, and when I had driven up 
to the gate, I irquir^-d if I might find lodging fcr the night, I 
was answered in the fcfl&rmative and told to come in, ihat my 
horse would be carea for. 

Thi:5 was really more kindness than I wris expecting I 
went in, wonderi' g what kind of a looking man my host was, 
when — Oh, lerroi! I heard the rattle of a chain coming around 
the corner of the house; no one had to tell me, "B ware of the 
dog!" A sudden flash of lighming showed me a terrible looking 
yard-dog. I made a spring for the door, but stumbled and fell, 
expecting each moment to feel the fangs of this monster tear my 
fl.:sh. But instead I heard a light scream and one of the 
sweeiest voices in the world saying, "Down, Tiger! down!" I 
recovered myself as quickly as I could and turned around to 
thank my rescuer, but only blank night stared me in the face, 
and I heard a low growl around in the back yard 

"I hope yoii are not hurt. Come ir, and you will soon be 
none the worse for your accident." I looked up and saw a very 
aged man "standing in the door way invitiug me in. I walked in 
brushing my kaees, now wondering who was the owner of that 
swec-t voice and where she was. I was soon relieved by my host 
spsaking to his wife, a very aged lady: "Polly, I think we will 
have to get Tommy to let Katie si ay with us all the time. She 
is so much help to us, ar.d she seems to like it. If it had not 
been for her, this stranger would have been badly bitten a while 
ago; for 1 had gone to call Jake, and you could never have made 
Tiger let go." Tuen, turning to me, he said: "Excuse me, sir, 
our name is Martin, and Katie is our granddaughter. What 
may be your name?" 

"Georj^e Roberts, thank you," I promptly answered. 

Mrs. Martin went out, saying she would go hurry supper 
along. After she was gone our conversation at first was concerning 
the storm, which had begun now in good earnest. Soon my host, 


turning to me, asked me if I was from the western part of the 
State, and if I knew an old man by the name of John Roberts. I 
replied that I did, and that John Roberts was my grandfather. 

"Why, I am glad to see you!" replied my host, shaking my 
hand. "John was my best friend when we were young, and I 
have often wondered what had become of him. How is he now, 
or is he still living?" 

"He died twelve years ago," I said. "I used to hear him 
talk of his young days and of a John Martin as his best 

"Well, I sm that friend. We hsd the same came and 
always went together until we were about grown, when my father 
moved across the State over here." Then ue went on to question 
me about some more of his old friends, few of whom I knew any- 
thing of, but all that I knew were dead. 

Supptr was then announced, and my host led me to the 
dining-room. When we entered the dinicg-room there was 
Katie moving about, the most graceful of the graceful, I thought. 
She appeared to be about seventeen. The introduction was short 
and simple: "Mr. Roberts, this is our granddaughter, Katie 

I thanked her, as we sat down to the table, for her timely 

"Thank you," she answered, blushing slightly. "That 
■was nothing. Tiger and I are playmates, and he always obeys 
me better than he will anyone else." 

My host went on to tell his wife who I was and how glad he 
was to meet me. She appeared as glad to know me as he was, 
and I thought I could distinguish a little sparkle in Katie's eyes* 
About the close of sapper we were startled by a negro runninaj 
upon the gallery and thrusting his head in at the door. 

"What on earth is the matter Jake?" asked Mr. Martin. 

"I tell you what, Marster," answered the frightened negro, 
"I saw a ball of lire bi^ as a barrel shoot 'cross Peddler swamp, 
an' it uz dat ar' bright you could a seen to pick up a needle." 

"Go along, Jake, you know that was just one of your fan- 
cies," returned my host. 


"I seed it wif my own eyes, an' I know that it is some of 
that ar' ghost's workings; they alius travel around of a rainy 
night," insisted the darkie. 

This was the first time I had ever heard of Peddler swamp, 
and you may imagine I was anxious to hear more of it. 

When we had gone back into the house — for this was an 
old-fashioned house with the kitchen and dinning-room apart 
from the dwelling — and were sitting around the fire built to 
drive the dampness of the air from the room, my host said: 

"There is a story connected with the name of Pedlar swamp 
which is one reason why that darkie was so frightened. Negroes 
are natuJally superstitious anyway. Maybe you would like to 
hear the story; but then I expect it would give Katie frightful 
dreams lor a week." 

"Oh, no sir, it wouldn't; please tell it for I like to hear 
those old stories," she replied; and I assured him it would be a 
great pleasure to me to listen. And this is the way, as nearly 
as I can give it, that he related the story: 

"Away back yonder, while this state was a territory, 
Col. Cleveland was a given a grant of land by the Government 
for service done in the war of 1812. His grant included this 
swamp and all the land around here for nearly two miles. Col. 
Cleveland lived in Ohio, but decided to move to his new posses- 
sions and there spend the remainder of his life. He was real 
well-to-do and owned a great number of slaves. His family 
consisted of himself, his wife, two sons, and one daughter. 

"His two sons stayed in Ohio to look after their father's 
interests up there, but his daughter came with him. 

"The Colonel built this house and soon became one of the 
the first men of the country. In those days this part of the coun 
try was very thinly settled. I remember that my father had 
just moved to a place about four miles below here, and we were 
first door neighbors to Colonel Cleveland, therefore we knew his 
family well. The Colonel's daughter was a pretty woman, but 
she never married; she lived to be an old maid and sold out her 
father's land and slaves after he and her mother died, and went 
back to Ohio. No one ever knew why she never married, but 


everybody has a right to form an opinion, you know. 

"Well soon after Colonel Cleveland moved down here 
there was a worthless young fellow, Howard McFaddin, the 
son of a rich planter whose plantation joined Col. Cleveland's, 
who came to see Miss Cleveland, or Jo Ann, as we called her. 
And to whom she became very much attached very soon, but no 
one thought there was anything of it. There were no stores on 
every cross-road then, and the nearest approach to a town was 
Natchez, seventy or more miles away, so all that most young 
people saw of trinkets were brought around by Irish peddlers 

"One day when Howard was out hunting, while crossing 
this swamp he saw an old peddler coming hobbling along under 
his pack. 'Now is my chance,' thought he, ' I will just lay this 
old fellow out of the way and then I will have all the trinkets I 
want to give to Miss Jo Ann.' So, suiting actions to his 
thoughts, he leveled his gun and fired. In an instant the old 
man was quivering upon the ground. 

"Howard just then realized what he had done. Terror 
seized him. 'What if somebody should come along and find the 
deapbody! Col. Cleveland's bloodhounds would be sure to be 
put upon the track! He was the murderer! He must do some- 
thing with the body; but what if some one should come along 
before he could hide it! Time enough! It would take but a 
few minutes to carry the body and pack out in the mar.-'h and 
sink them!' But minutes seemed hours to Howard McFaddin. 
He no longer thought of jawelry, but of fl ght. As he fled home 
he thought he could hear the baying of the hounds upon his 
trail. During the night he dressed, gathered a ^ew clothes in a 
bundle, got some money and fled, resolved on going to Texas to 
forget his crime and die there unknown. 

"Ten years afterwards there was a picnic given at Col. 
Cleveland's. A great many people were gathered ttiere from the 
whole country. Early in the afternoon a dtfsty traveler came 
up to a group of old men and addressed them thus: 

" 'Fellow Men — Ten long years ago I murdered an old ped- 
dler here and sank his body in yonder swamp. It was a case of 
cold blooded murder and I deserve punishment. I have fled 
from my crime these ten years, but no rest have I had. A sense 



of guilt has followed me day and night the whole time. My 
desire is that you lead me back to the spot where I murdered the 
old peddler and there give rae my due punishment sink my body 
where I sank that of the old man.' 

"At that time the law was not followed like it is now; Howard 
McFaddin, tor this was he, was led to the spot he indicated as 
the place where he had murdered the poor peddler and shot; 
then his body was sunk in the marsh. There was a lady among 
the crowd of women who watched this tragic scene that every 
now and then raised the corner of her apron to her eyes: this 
was Miss Jo Ann Cleveland, Ever since that time this swamp 
has gone by the name of Peddler Swamp." 

My host finished and I glanced over towards Katie; she 
seemed to be nestled a little closer to her grandmother's knee. 
«*** «**♦* 

I now sometimes tell this story to to our children, but al- 
ways when I come to the point where I was rescued from the dog 
Kate — I call her Kate now — is very busy. . 


The tall elms were lengthening their shadovvs down the 
slope, and the sun was sinking behind the old Goodrum hill, 
when two young lovers took their seats on an old log that lay 
decaying in the shadow of the sheltering tree. The young man 
was just blooming into manhood, while ihe maiden had still the 
appearance of a child. Their eyes were not lit with the flash of 
joy, nor did their cheeks blush from the smile of mischief- 
making. But each showed that there was something which had 
brought meditation, and that that meditation was producing 
some grief 

Clara slowly looked around her, as if looking to see if any- 
one was near. Her eyes were dimmed by tears of love. Her 
affections were all centered on Charles. Charles had loved her 


almost from infancy, and for her to love him seemed only the 
just course of nature. With her handkerchief she brushed the 
tears from her eyes, and then, fixing them intently upon Charles, 
in tones that foretold sadness, she said: 

"Charles, are you really going to leave us?" 

"YfcS," he replied, trying to assume the firmness of a man; 
"I have promised Judge Harris that I will go with him." 

"Oh, Charles, you will be so far away from home," 
responded Clara, in a voice that was full of despondency; and 
then doubt and a tinge of jealous}', which i^ so ofcen mixed with 
the pure love of woman, filled her heart, and she continued: 
"If you go with Judge Harris to California, you will forget all 
about the little girl back in Choctaw county, Mississippi, who 
loved you so dearly, won't you?" 

"No, a thousand times, no!" replied Charles, as he grasped 
her hands between his. "y^z^, Clara? Forget ^oz^f The one 
whom I have loved from the time when you first learned to prat- 
tle; the only one except my mother that has ever charmed my 
eyes and inspired my life to nobler deeds and higher accomplish- 
ments? No; I cjuld never forget you or cease to love you. 
You do me an injustice to intimate that I could ever cease to love 
you, or love another. It is for your sake that I desire to go with 
Judge Harris, for he promises me that if I will go with him he 
will lend me money and let me work for him to repay it, and 
that I can go to the famous Iceland Stanford University and be 
educated Then, Clara, I shall return to my native State and 
county for you to be my wife. If you have proven true to me 
till then, have not married another, and still love me, I promise 
that J ou shall not always be Miss Clara May McAllister, but 
that, if you are then willing, your name shall be changed to 
Mrs. Charles Rustoa Cooper." 

"Charles, my pride, my life, my lover! The future seems 
bright jor you. I kno?? that you will make a great man; I 
know that you will use t ?e advantages which are given you; I 
rejoice because I feel that you will succeed. But, Charles, I fear 
that when you are educated and have become accustomed to 
the society in which Judge Harris is prominent, you will look 


with snorn upon the daughter of a poor farmer, and that 
you will marry the daughter of some rich gold miner, who 
will inherit a fortune. I wish it were so I could go to col- 
lege, but I do not see how it can ever be possible. But, Charles, 
remember, wherever you may b?, and in whatever circle ot 
society you may move, that I still love you and that I am wait- 
ing for you to return." 

Charles was enraptured in her love and charmed by her 
beauty. It seemed to him that he had never seen her so beauti' 
fully dressed, although her apparel was plain and simple. There 
she sat — the embodiment of innocence and love and beauty.r 
Charles was never in the presence of a more lovely or a more 
lovable creature. Dressed in a simple calico dress of blue which 
hung only to her shoe-tops, over which she wore a pure white 
apron which had the shoulder straps crossed on her breast and 
extending over her shoulders, she was beauty and innocence 
combined. Just over her heart was a beautiful white rose-bud, 
and resting on the back of her head was a snow-white bonnet 
which over-shadowed the golden curls that tantalizingly 
embraced her beautiful neck and carelessly rested their locks cf 
gold on her throbbing breast. He sat for a rnoment feasting 
upon her beauty and contemplating the happiness which would 
abide in their home when they were man and wife. Then 
Charles, looking around him, realized that time had passed 
quickly and that the sun had ceased to shine over the tree-tops of 
the distant hills. Rising from the old log where he had been 
sitting forgetful ot bis surroundings, he said: '*Ciara, it is late; 
we must return home, or your parents will think we have wan- 
dered away. But before we go I ask you to remember what we 
have said; remember our promises and all will be well. I start 
for California tomorrow. Judge Harris has bought a tract of 
land there, and is goiag to spend his declining days in that 
healthful climate. No-.v, Clara, if you love me truly, and if you 
mean to live up to your promises, you will grant me one request, 
won't you?" 

"Yes, anything," replied Clara, for she understood that it 
was only a good b>e kiss. Then the threw her arms lovingly 


around his neck, ^nd he put his gently around her waist, and 
there in the presence of God alone they sealed their promises 
and love with a kiss. Then they hastened to her home and 
Charles took his leave, after having told her family all 

Judge Harris and his party departed early next morning, 
September i, 1891, for the village of Santa Barbara, California. 
Charles did not enter school that year, for he remained at home 
doing all that he could to aid Judge Harris in the arrangement 
of his affairs. The old judge has made some investments which 
he found that Charles could now more successfully attend to 
than any laborer that he could get. Charles proved himself so 
apt and tactful in business, and so kind and gentle and affec- 
tionate in the home, that Judge Harris and his wife became very 
much attached to him. Thev loved him as parents would love 
an own child; and both of his parents being dead, his father 
having died when he was an infant and his mother a few months 
before they came to California, the good old people began think- 
ing of having him adopted as their own son. They had no 
children at all and they were both now getting old, and having 
lived a prosperous life financially , they had a good deal of property, 
with no direct heir to receive it. Charles was then seventeen 
years of age — rather old to have his name changed, — but they 
persuaded him to let them do so, and he was adopted as the son 
of Judge A. P. Harris. 

At the opening of the session of 1892-1893 of Iceland 
Stanford University, Charles Ruston Harris was idmitted as 
Freshman on trial. He soon rose in his class to a student of 
high standing. 

When he left home and was freed from the responsibility of 
business duties, and when he began to read the songs of poets 
whose hearts throbbed with love, and to study the productions 
of novelists whose imaginations planned, and whose pens told, 
the thrilling events of romance; when he was associated with 
school-boys whose lives were fu 1 of sentiment, who sang the 
songs of their "sweethearts" they left behind, and who anx- 
iously awaited the weekly letters from the girls whom they loved 


SD dear, Charles could bear It no longer and determined to write 
to the girl whom he loved so dearly and renew his love, make 
his promises stronger, and explain his silence. This he did, 
and then anxiously awaited the reply. A week passed and no 
reply came; two weeks were gone, and still he waited. His 
sleep had been broken by dreams of varied nature — sometimes 
good, sometimes bad. He determined to write again, thinking 
perhaps he had made some mistake in the address. This time 
he took particular care to direct her letter correctly, leaving out 
nothing. He addressed it as follows: 

Miss Clara May McAllister, 
Care J. W. McAllister, Perry, 

Choctaw County. Mississippi. 

Then he watched every mail for two long and dreary weeks, 
but no letter came from Clara. Charles was almost broken- 
hearted to think that the girl whom he thought loved him so 
truly, who had made such earnest vows, could so easily prove 
false. He gave up in despair, thinking she had ceased to love 
him and was now loving another. But he determined not to 
yield to this little love affair, but to banish it from his thoughts. 

Time advanced, and Charles became popular in the society 
circles of the university, belonging to the most popular frater- 
nity of his college in addition to the scholarship fraternity, to 
which very few were ever admitted. 

On June 2, 1897, ^^s fraternity gave their annual banquet, 
at which the yourg ladies of the most wealthy and icfluential 
families of the Slate were guests. M^-. Charles B. Harris, having 
just gotten his master's degree, was chosen to deliver the wel- 
come address for the fraternity. When he arose to make his 
speech, bis stately appearance, his jet black hair and sparkling 
eyes, caught the attention of every one present, and when his 
address was ended his eloquence had charmed the audience and 
he had won the heart of Miss Adelia Jose, the only child of the 
great money king, H. K. Jose, of Sacramento. She was an 
accomplished and beautiful young lady; she was attractive and 
enienaiuing. There was nothing to keep Charles from marrying 


hsr, and a marriage with her meant honor and wealth combined. 
The evening was spent, and unconsciously the hearts of Miss 
Jose and Mr. Harris were pierced by one of Cupid's darts. 

The banquet was ended and the visitors departed to their 
separate abodes, and Charles returned to sleep on a pillow of 
thorns. Thoughts of love had once again been aroused in his 
mind. In his dreams that night he saw a queenly lady adorned 
with silks and bedecked with diamonds who had in one hand 
wealth and in the other honor, and by her side there stood a 
country maiden dressed in blue calico, trimmed with white 
lawn, and she was jevveled with two sky-blue eyes that were lit 
by love; in her right hand she held love, in her left she held 

Charles did not believe in dreams, but he rose next morning 
to serious meditations. He soon decided that it was foolish for 
him to think of dreams and to keep thinking of that little coun- 
try maid of his boyhood love. 

Shortly after he had finished sohool he was appointed by 
the Governor as the State Horticulturist, he having taken some 
special course in that study during vacation. Tuis position he 
filled with much credit to himself and much profit: to his State 
until 1900, when he was appointed to be the Commissioner for 
the State in the Pan-American Exposition. During the time he 
occupied this position he had many calls from the great fruit 
growers all over the State for the advice which he alone could 
give. He became the most popular man of public sffairs in the 
State. During this time his friendship with Miss Jose had 
become intimate. His suit was encouraged by his foster-parents 
and by Mr. Jose. The prophecy soon went forth, if he married 
Miss Jose, he would be elected Governor in 1912. 

The Pan Ameiican Exposition was a great success, and 
California's exhibit was considered by all as the best which was 

As the latter days of the exposition drew to a close the 
grounds were filled with college boys and girls from all over the 
Union, who had come from their respective schools on special 
trains. Mr. Harris went out on the exhibition grounds on the 


30th of September to give some final instructions to the man- 
agers of the California exhibit before he took his departure back 
to his home State. As he passed through the fair grounds he 
saw innumerable college girls. When he came to the California 
exhibit he found a large number of college girls from Virginia 
admiring the baautiful fruits and the various kinds of oddities 
which were shown, but he noticed one lady of the number who 
read intently the bulletin of the managers which hung at the 
entrance. Ha thought this singular that she should turn aside 
from the magnificent exhibit to read the names of the managers. 
He happened to stop near her, and stood for an Instant watch- 
ing the peculiar expression of her face. As he stood there he 
heard her say, "Charles Ruston Harris?" "Cdarles Ruston?" 
At that instant she turned and looked straight into his eyes. 
He felt condemned that he should stand and gaze at a lady in 
such a manner, and quickly turned his eyes and walked away. 
He gave his instructions to the managers of the exhibit con- 
cerning the arrangements to be made when the exhibition was 
ended, and then he reiurned to his hotel to make preparations 
for his return home. 

When he had gone to his room after dinner, he seated him- 
self in a comfortable chair to take a smoke, and as he sat time 
passed unconsciously in a reverie. To himself he thought, "I 
am now through with this duty, which has been a laborious one, 
but it has made me and my State famous throughout the world. 
I will now return to my State and marry Miss Jose and be 
elected Governor in 1902. Then I will have honor and weath. 
What better success can man want? But who could that strange 
lady be whom I saw reading the bulletin today? Why should 
she have been so interested? She had a familiar face to me, it 
seems, and those eyes I surely have se. n before. Why could 
she have been repeating my name? Suiely she did not know 
me," Thus he continued at length. Finally he retired, hoping 
to get a good night's rest before he began his long journey 

The porter rapped at his door before he had hardly gone to 
sleep, it seemed, and informed him that his train would start in 


thirty minutes. It was then 5 A. m. He dressed in haste and 
hurried to the station. He decided that he would not take a 
sleeper until he got to Erie, where he would change cars and 
take the great South Western, which would carry him direct to 
Sacramento without a change. He boarded the train, and as he 
seated himself a flash of joy came into his heart as he thought 
that in two more days he would sit by the side of and hear the 
musical voice of her who was soon to be his wife. Just then he 
saw a lady, who occupied the chair just ahead of him, trying to 
open the window by her. The train was crowded and the air 
was stifling. She could not work the spring, and, the porter not 
being neiir, Mr. Harris ro?e and asked: "Will you permit me 
to raise the window?" 

"Thank you," replied the lady; "if you will be so kind." 
Mr. Karris did this qu'ckl-.-, but as he raised it one of his 
cards fell accidently from hU pocket. The lady saw it fall, 
picked it UP atjd reiiiroed it to him as she thanked him for his 
kindness. He noticed when she banded it to hhii that she v/as 
the same lady whom he saw reading his name the day before. 
He then looked around him, and saw that there was the f?ame 
body of Virginia students whom he had seen. He noticed that 
she seemed older than most of them, yet she was not too old to 
be the most beautiful <: ne of the number. He decided that she 
must be a teacher, ard, noting an imitation of at} ^olian harp 
on her brooch, concluded ifcat sne w?s the mysic teacher. He 
thanked her for his card and took his seat again, in a 
s*"ate of confusion. Jast then one of the young lady students 
came to the lady and said: "Miss Clara, I want you to meet a 
persocal trieni oi mine, a young lady whom I met last summer 
while visiting the YeUow-stoi^e Park and the Yosemite Valley. 
She was a member of our traveling party." 

While the Cv)ilege girl was gone to get h-r friend, thoughts 
passed in rapid succession throagh Mr. H:u!is' brain. He won- 
dered how it could be '^ ossibl-* f>>r two p:-vp'e to rc-Srrable so 
much as did the object of his bovhcod love and this lady who sat 
before him whom the student hsd Ciiled Mi--s Clara. Tno=e sky- 
blue eyes were the .Hame; those goliin cnils of mLiidenhood had 


only changed to a light brown of maturer years. That voice had 
the same mellow tone as had the voice of his childhood sweet- 
heart, Clara McAllister. Was it possible? Could he be mis- 
taken? Was that Clara, the little country girl, the daughter of 
the poor Choctaw county farmer, who was the music teacher? 
His heart leaped within him, and he was filled anew with the 
pure love of his j^outh. 

Then the scene of his last walk with Clara catne into his 
mind. He remembered those loving words that were spoken and 
recalled those promises that were given, made sacred by love; 
and then he remembered how he had written her two letters 
while in college, and that no reply ever came. He thought that 
Clara must be dead or had married another. He did not know 
that both of his letters had been destroyed by accident — before 
Clara had the opportunity of reading them; he did not know 
that she had taken advantage of opportunities, and had become 
an educated woman; he did not know that she had anxiously 
expec-ed his letter.--, hopefully awaited his return, and patiently 
borne his silence. 

The young c >liege girl returued wiih h:r friend, and, 
approaching the lady teacher, said: "Miss Ciar , I want you to 
meet my friend. Miss Evans." Th^n tundug to Miss Evans, she 
said: "Eva, this is my favorite t:acher, the head niistress of 
music in our college, Miss C ara May McAllister." 

Tutn Mr. Harris rose, as if the introduciion had been made 
to him, and forgetting iormality and adowing love to gain the 
mastery of timidity, he said in quick and anxious words: "Is 
this Cirira May McAllister, of Ciioctiw county, Mississippi?" 

Then the teacher turned and looked Mr. Karris straight 
in the eyes. At that instant each recognizd the other, 
and, forgetcicg the dignity of a college teacher and that of a 
candidate for Governor, each grasped the other in an impulsive 
embrace, and shed tears of joy inspired by true love. 

The whistle blew for Erie. D d Mr. Harris change cars 
alone and return to California to marry the lady whose wealth 
and social position offered him so many advantages and insured 
him so many honors? Or did he take with him, regardless of 


the results, the one who had sworn her love for him as a 
maiden, and had loved him, and him alone, through ten years 
of abandonment? 

Mr. Harris is now Governor of California; who do you 
think is his wife? 


{^Concluded .) 

The Policeman followed the actor as Paul had directed and 
arrested him. At fi'St ths actor tried to question the man, but 
received no information whatever. 

'"Why am I arrested on what charge?" 

Pie got no answer from the stolid guardian of tbe law who 
stood with a non-committal look on his face, as if he knew vol- 
umes but would not tell anything at all. 

"I have a right to know why I am detained," insisted the 
actor husky with anger. "I am playing the leading part here 
tonight, and the play cannot proceed without me." 

"You keep quiet," said the Policeman. "I have arrested 
you in th^name of the King." This he said with great empha- 
sis in order to impress the actor with the uselessness of farther 
argument or questioning. 

"Great Constellations! You fool, I am the King of this 
realm. You turn me loose, or you shall pay for it." 

"1 see," muttered the policeman to himself, "I see. The 
mystery is all clear. This is a dangerous maniac and that smart 
young soldier didn'c want to risk his skin," and he shuddered 
at the great danger he had escaped and hastened to pass a rope 
around the King until he looked a veritable ball of rope. The 
King raved, threatened and swore at the Policeman, but this 
only increased that worthy's belief in the fact that he had a mad- 
man in custody. 



Following the soldiers instructions, he found the King's 
costume lor the next act, went out the door, locking it behind him 
and carried the costume to the young soldier. Paul had direct- 
ed the arrest to save tae King's life, and he was going to take 
the King's costume and go on the stage and face the anarchist 
in the duel scene in the last act. 

Paul commended the man for carrying out his instructions 
so faithfully and told bitn to guard the room where the prisoner 
lay bound. The young soldier then stepped into one of the 
empty dressing rooms and qaickly divested himself of his uni- 
form and put on the costume v^hich the King was to have worn. 
The costume fitted a little tight, but not enough to matter. 
Dressed in it he might easily be mistaken for the same actor 
who had just left the stage. He surveyed himself in the glass 
and he thought the deception would be complete. He tODk his 
sword out of its sheat and bended it across his knee to test it and 
then threw it on the table. "I'll need you tonight as I have 
never needed you before. My father fougat with you on many 
bloody field. You always stood him in good stead. Stand by 
me tonight and I'll kill that blood-thirsty Italian who is waiting 
to kill the K'ng." His soliloqaies were interrupted by the ring- 
ing of the bell as the curtain went up on the fourth and last act. 
He thrust his hand into the pocket of his discarded uniform and 
brought out a pencil portrait of a young girl he gazed fondly and 
earnestly at it and then thrust it into his bosm. He then started 
up, thrust his sword into its sheath and walked to the wings and 
waited for bis cue. 

When it came he walked out into the glare of the footlights. 
Giovauetti advanced to meet him. Paul said the few words of 
his part with ease, for he had learned them by following the 
King to the rehearsals and listening. The vvords between the 
hero and villian were few; they quareled, the lie was given — a 
blow, and the swords were whipped out and the duel began. 
Paul knew that now there was before him life or death; but 
whatever came he had saved the King. And then came the 
thought of the young girl back in the mountains who was wait- 


ing for him and he resolved that he would win in this fight for 
her, for his old father and for his King. 

The anarchist had not penetrated his disguise and thought 
he was fencing with the King, Paul watched his antagonist 
during the first few fab-e passes. Suddenly the Italian made a 
vicious thrust at the young soldier. It was parried. 

"He calcn'ated to end me thrn," thought Paul. "V/e are 
in for it cow in ia earnest." 

The duel had indeed commanced in earnest, for the Italian 
seeing his opponent was aware of his foul intentioa resolved 
that he would not leave the stage alive. Paul soon felt the 
strength of the other's wrist and knew that he had no mean op- 
ponent to contet3d with. The fencing began to get bewildering- 
ly rapid as the two fought up and down the stage 

The audience during the first three acls had been disgusted 
by the mediocrity oi the plot and the amateur acting of the play- 
ers, but were carried awaj- by the sword play. It seemed just 
as though the acors were in earnest. The audieace appl-:uded 
and as the fighting became more heated they seemed to be car- 
ried off their feet and were irin'vc ia their applause. 

Oq the t,lage the fight was geitiug livelier than b3fore. The 
Italian had tried all the tricks that he knew without avail. This 
raaddent-d him so that he sent the edge of his sword whirling 
in the air before the young soldier's eyes with such rapidity that 
it seemed one coniiaaous hoop of steel. Paul hsd tried all his 
sword tricks except one on his opponent; but the Italian could 
Bot be pu: v ff his guard. Paul knew one trick which he had 
not tried. It was a feiat which his father had taught him. He 
resolved to use the trick on ihe first oppc-rtuaity. But he never 
had the opportunity to use it, for as they fought back and forth 
over the stage with the sparks flashing from their blades, the 
Italian thought he saw an opening. Tnen, stiffening his arm 
to its lull length, he thru-,t forward at Paul's heart. Oaly the 
mountain training and activity of the youth saved the young 
soldier's life from that thrust. He spra^^g back, but the next 
second he threw the Italian's blade upward and thrust him 
through the lungs. 


The Italian stood for a moment his face upturned, one hand 
pressed to his side, gasping for breath like a fish. Then his 
arms fanned the air, his sword clattered to the floor, a shudder 
ran through his frame and he fell to the floor — dead. 

Paul saw the dead body in something like a dream. He 
felt a dull pain in his shoulder and put bis hand up and brought 
it down covered with blood. He had been wounded by that last 
thrust of the anarcbisr. A sickening nausea seemed lo creep 
over him; soaie obstructiou seemed lo cover his sight. He 
reached out hts hand to pust it av^ay and tbeu he felt that he 
felt that he wts falling. He had fainted. 

The sword scene took the audience by storm and they ap- 
plauded liberally. When thsy saw the villiau slain they thought 
he was acting magnificently in dying. When a few seconds 
later the hero dropped they began to get confused — they thought 
there was someihlng wrong. 

In a lower box in the audience sat the old, white-haired 
prime minister and by him an officer. The old man h«d taken 
little interest in the play until the last act and :hen he watched 
ihe duel cio^ely. A sigh of relief came frotn his lips when he 
viliian drop, but when he saw the other drop, he grasped the 
officer's sleeve in excitement. 

'T feel sure that is not in the play," he said nervously to 
the cffi;er. 

"Et doesn't matter if it isn't, does it?" £?ked the officer. 

"The K-ng is playing the principal part in the play. Slip 
around behind the scenes and see if there if anything the 
matier. " 

The officer paled and hurried out of the box and went be- 
hind the wings and glanced out on the stage. He saw the biood 
all over the young soldier's shoulder and hurried back to the 
old man, his eyes dilated with excitement. "The King has 
been killed or w-::unded," he reported. "I saw him lying ^-nth 
blood all over his clothing." The Prime Minister hurrid behind 
the f ceues. 

In some wa5' the people iu the audience heard tbathe King 
as either seriously wounded or killed. The curtain went down 


l)ut the audience did not move. They sat in their seats trans- 
fixed with horror. 

The old Prime Minister found the stage manager walking 
about the corridors behind the stage in his distraction. A phy- 
sician was bending over the form of the woucded man examin- 
ing the wound. 

"The wound is not dangerous," said he. "It will be healed 
soon. It is oaly a flash wound in the shoulder." 

The old minister came near the group and when he saw 
that it vfas Paul he droppi-d on his knees beside him. He 
-Sobbed for joy and excitedly asked the young soldier lo relate 
his story. He listened with shining eyes as the young soldier 
told him the details. Ha pressed the young boy's hand and said 
he was a brave and noble boy. That was a great deal from a 
brusque old man like the Prime Minister. He gathered from 
Paul where the King was and hurried to find him. He relieved 
the faithful old policeman from his duty. Opening the door he 
found the king mad with rage that he had been kept so long in 
"durance vile." When he had quieted down the Prime Minis- 
ter told him how his life had been saved by the heroic young 

"Show me this young soldier at once," said the King. "I 
can never repay the debt I owe him. I must also ask your pardon 
for the manner in which I have treated you." 

The old man led the way to where the young soldier was, 
now on his feet, although looking a little bewildered. The 
King threw his arms around his waist and kissed him in boyish 
expression of gratitude. He took an ornament from around his 
neck aud gave it to the young soldier. 

"Keep it. It is one of the noblest orders of Europe. There 
are only five others like it in the world." 

"But, sir," remonstrated the Prime Minister. "Only a 
nobleman can wear the order." 

The King smiled and said to Paul, "Kneel down." 

The soldier obeyed wonderingly. The King knighted him. 
'""You can wear it now, I suppose." 



The Prime Minister went in front of the curtain and told 
the story of how the King's life had been saved by the lyife 
Guards. The audience cheered and cheered again. That night 
the young soldier was draw to his humble lodgings in a carriage 
drawn by men. 

This happened years ago. The old minister is dead now 
and his successor bears a strong resemblance to our friend Paul, 
It is in fact the same person grown old in the King's service. 
If you enjoy the pleasure of being at one of his sumptuous enter- 
tainments,, the fame of which has spread throughout the length 
and breadth cf the kingdom, you will probably see his wife. She 
is a beautiful little creature whom no amount of attention has 
been able to spoil. In a locket she has a little pencil portrait 
which the young soldier carried with him on the stage on that 
eventful night. It is the picture of herself. 

In a tavern frequented by the police of the city, the custo- 
mers often see an old man. He is a retired p lice captain. It 
is the custom when a new member comes on the force to bring 
him to the tavern and introduce him to the old man. The old 
man will take the young member over to one side and tell him 
with the skill acquired by practice the story of how he arrested 
the King. 



Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps Colleg-e 

W. F. Cook Editor-in-Chief 

Lamar EASTERiyiNG Associate Editor 

F. D. MELiyEN, Alumni Editor 

D. L. Bingham, Local Editor. 

JOS. H. Penix, Literary Editor. 

H. V. WaTkins Athletic Editor. 

F. E. GUNTER, Business anager 

"W. C. Bowman, M. S. Pittman Assistants 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to F. E. 
Gunter, Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be sent 
to W. F. Cook, Editor-in-Chief. 


Subscriptiou Per annum $1.00. Two Copies. $1.50 Per Annum 


When the editor a<3sumed his dutJes at the beginning of the 
session, he ventured the statement that the Collegian would 
be a better magazine if the staff could be appointed for longer 
service. After looking upon its painful struggle for a year, we 
believe that the most admirable feature connected with the mau< 
agement is the annual appointment of a new staff, and feel that 
the student body, the faculty, and the CollEOian itself are in- 
deed fortunate in this arrangement. 

In surrendering to others the obligations and responsibili- 
ties of the board of editors, our only regret is that we have done 
so little, and yet often we have felt the seriousness of the re- 
sponsibility which the faculty placed upon us. Often we have 
thought of the student body whose reputation was involved in 
every issue of the magazine, and of our friends who are !:.o happy 
when we do well and so grieved when we fail, and the realiza- 
tion of it all has at times been painlul. We have done little 
when we would do much. 


The staff is not aloue responsible for the nature of the pub- 
lication, for it has not the power to insure success. Every Col- 
lege publication is dependent upon the spirit and character of 
the student body for its succes?. The board of editors may do 
a great deal towards shaping this spirit and character, but with- 
out it the magaz'ne will never be more than an excuse. Many 
students look upon time spent in writing for the magazine as 
wasted and consider their efforts thankless,. There are only a 
iew exceptional students among the student body who naturally 
and gladly aid in supporting the Collegian. The majority of 
them feel that their time is too valuable and that it would be 
poor economy to give it to a critical public free when they 
might sell it to the faculty for "distinctions-" There sre others 
who simply feel that the staff has charge of the magazine, that 
the faculty has designated them as its authors and sole and all- 
suflScient supporters, and tbat they therefore have no part in it. 
Still others have no desire to aid it; they do not know anything 
about it and really do not care. 

We do not knew how it will come about, but until we have 
a genuine pride, a pardonable pride, — and a genuine pride is 
pardonable — in our magazine, we will never hive one to be 
proud of. The importance of the msgazine ought to have 
some weight with the student body, ought to be a healthy stim- 
ulus. It is through it we are kncwa to the outside college 
Vforld; it conveys the voice of our college thought and 
heart and will. It is the reed through which we produce fine 
liarmony with all that is worthy, or grating discord with all that 
is unworthy within us. Like the musical instrument, it echoes 
the depths or shallows of the musician. A.Ioag its lines flow 
the vital spirit of spkndid college life or stand the stagnant 
pools of a lazy and indiffctrent college existence. What a grand 
spectacle is a student body bending their energies to a purpose 
whose only return is a magnificient college magazine! We be- 
lieve that we will one day have such a student body. When 
we do we shall have a Collegian which will compare favorably 
with the publication of any college in the South. We have 
seen, with not more than one-twentieth of the student body 


assisting, a Collegian issued by us during the years of 'oi-'o2^ 
which was not a discredit to us. We know that with the other 
nineteen-twentieths aiding we can have one worlhy of us and of 
our friends. 

But there is need of some practical means. Tiie enthusiasm 
of the st^^ff alone will not do, there must be the means of reach- 
ing the student body. Unless the editor has time to transmit 
the enthusiasm of the staff to the student body the means is 
wanting. With the present arrangement the editor can not 
give sufficient time to his department. Soliciting material, cor- 
lecting manuscript, revising proofs, together with other drudg- 
ery, keep him too busy to devote sufficient time to h's editorials. 
He should be given credit on his regular course for his edito- 
rials for he would then have more to do on the C0LI.EG1AN, out- 
side of his writing, than any other student. If the CoLLEGiAN 
be not worthy of this it is, to my mind, not worthy of the Col- 

We hope and believe that the Collegian will grow better, 
which is another way of saying that more students will come to 
its aid. There is such a great field for its activit3^ We believe 
mere than ever before that our college will be one of the best in 
the South. But there is much to be done. We are disgrace- 
fully behind in our gymnasium equipment. There is no use 
posing as the champion of physical development. Those 
who are not its champions are champions of nothing, and 
therefore the less is the need of defenders. The time for 
arguing either in favor of or sgaiust physical culture, so far as 
contested points are concerned, has passed. That time has 
passed, and one would think he was reading some molded man- 
uscript of frail-handed Monk of old, old times if I were to stop 
to do such a thing. But just as far as we are from not admitting 
the necessi'y of physical development, just so far are we from 
having sufficient equipment. It is too sickening to contemplate. 
We are painfully behind here, and the ugh it may be for the 
reason that we hf^ve stopped in the race of college progress to tie 
the shoes of splendid instructors, we cannot afford to halt long,, 
because we will be run over. As important as are scholarly pro- 



fessors, the time has come for attention to be given to things 
none the less important. 

Our library is dreadfully in need of better equipment in 
every particular. We need more books. We appreciate the 
relics of old-time Methodist days and Baptist days and Presby- 
terian days, and all those thoroughly orthodox days, as for that. 
These ancient-bound and care-worn volumes of good ministers^ 
and as good laymen, are highly esteemed; but we want more' 
than these. We need not mention them, for you know what 
books we need. We already have many good ones among our 
interesting relics and tokens of good will, but we want thousands 
more, and we must have them if we expect to do well the work 
before us. The periodicals are numerous and good, but not 
numerous enough. Besides, we have no good place to keep 
them. They are torn and scattered, and ofcen either in hiding 
or lost. We cannot find them, or when we do our time is out 
and we cannot read them. 

We need better equipment for our recitation rooms, our 
chapel, and our laboratory. The shades are poor, and the light 
cannot be well regulated. The seats, especially in the English 
room and chapel, are uncomfortable. The heating arrangement 
is at times very disagreeable. We have a good laboratory, but 
we need a better one. Our walks are ill kept and shabby- 

We have mentioned these things not because we feel that we 
are in bad circumstances, for we have many and splendid 
advantages, but because we need better advantages. With a 
little outlay wonderful improvements could be made, A well- 
equipped gymnasium with hot and cold baih arrangement, a 
library with additional book:^ and periodicals neaily and pre- 
servingly arranged, a better and more comfortably furnished 
chapel and recitation rooms, this much could be done now, or 
some of it at least. We mention these things because we believe 
the friends of the college should not be satisfied with the equip- 
ment we have, but should strive to hasten the day of Millsaps* 
final leadership of southern colleges. 

B. F. Herring & C®., 


Staple & Fancy Dry Goods and Groceries. 
Gent's Furnishings and Shoes a Specialty. 

Cor. Capitol and Roach Sts. WEST JACKSON. 


Phone 1 14. office 104E. Capltol St., opposite Gov.'s Mansiou 

J. W. KEY, D. D, 


Office Hours: 8 a. m. to 1 p. m. JACKSON, MISSISSIPPI, 

2 to 5 p. m. Capitol St. 


lOQ South Stato Street 

JBe Sure nnd Gall 
to see us MOYS 

For Men Onlyl 

i^ Cummings Shoe Store 


The Florsheim $4 and up. 

Other Leading Brands $3,50 Down. 


MAR 1973