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^TlifiStuidenta Of MiIUap« Coll«tf*« 

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Only First Gafii 


Headquarters for the College Boys* 

They make a Specialty of ftirmshing Refreshments for 

Banquets and Receptions. 

Prices Most Reasonable. 


Next to Century Theatre 

Phone J 15 West Capitol St. 



Fotniture, Mattings, Ritgs, Etc 



Foroizr- ntid Domestlr Tiefars. 

•^luokers' > . . i 

::l() U . Viii>iU)\ Street. 

Jacksoiit Miss. 


Arrivals of the celebrated 

L Addler & Bros., and thi BiH System Glotbes 

for young man, assures the students of Millsaps proper^wear 

for the ^ring and Summer. 

We will be |^«d to have a personal call from you. 

The Thompson Brothers G)» 


VoL 8. Jackson, Miss*, November, I905* No. t* 


(Speech delivered by M. S. Pittman in the Mississippi 
Oratorical Contest, Brookhaven, Miss., May, 1905.) 

This is a day of progress and prophecy. Almost every 
author and statesman, politician and priest, has his theory 
as to the final solution of all future problems, and with fault- 
less language and infallible logic suggests an ideal method 
for the adjustment of all succeeding exigencies. As for me, 
I care not to unveil the mystic future and prophesy the destiny 
of all; I prefer to cast a backward glance over the path trodden 
for a few centuries by the Anglo-Saxon race, to note the steps 
by which it gained its supremacy, and try to find the real 
secret of its great success. 

Every nation has a time that it acknowledges as its birth- 
hour and a man that it confesses as its father; France and 
Germany had their Charlemagne, and Russia her Peter the 
Great; even so, England, her Alfred, the West Saxon. It 
was he who sounded the bugle blast that called together the 
men of his own blood, inspired by a common patriotism, and 
repulsed a heathen invasion. That conflict was not only a 
conflict between Danes and Saxons; it was a death grapple 
between Thor and the "White Christ." It was a rude chal- 
lenge which came from the warrior god, disputing the empire 
of the Prince of Peace. Right prevailed, Christianity conquered 
and England became a nation. 

It is provided in the Constitution of the Mississippi State Oratori- 
cal Association, that the representatives of the colleges shall have their 
speeches published in their respective college journals, at some time dur- 
ing the year succeeding the contest. 


To every nation, as to every individual, must come "times 
that try men's souls," times when men must grapple in a life 
and death struggle for all that Ufe holds dear. Such a time 
was it when the chivalric Howard and the "hoary sea dogs 
of the Spanish main" led the yoemen of England to combat 
with the proud aristocracy of haughty Spain; when they 
crushed the ponderous Armada, the last resource of mediaeval 
despotism in its struggle against the rising tide of Anglo- 
Saxon liberty. When the morning sun shone on the rocky 
shores of England, strewn with the bodies of thousands of 
Spain's bravest soldiers, and disclosed to view every crest of 
the waves covered with the wreck of Spanish galleons, his 
beams fell on an England which was henceforth to be not only 
the mistress of the seas, but the mother of mighty nations of 
kindred blood in parts of the world then unlmown. 

Another day dawned for Anglo-Saxon blood and civiliza- 
tion, when on the rugged Plains of Abraham, two of nations' 
noblemen battled for the supremacy of the New World. It 
was not the fate of Quebec which was the issue between Mont- 
calm and Wolfe — those two men who incarnated the highest 
ideals of chivalrous manhood, and whom history delights to 
paint as equally grand in life and glorious in death — not the 
possession of the New World, but the success of the policy 
planned by Pitt in England, and executed by CHve in India, 
by Frederic the Great in Europe, by Rodney on the sea, by 
Wolfe in America. Well could Wolfe say, "I die in peace," 
for his work was done. Three continents acknowledged the 
sway of the Anglo-Saxon, and he had won the dominion 
"o'er palm and pine." 

Once again "the timiult and the shouting dies," the smoke 
of battle hfts, and from under the heavy clouds of a June day, 
the sun shines on the wreck of the Old Guard. That sun 
which had been seen to rise at Austerlitz was now setting at 
Waterloo, and once again the fate of future ages was fixed by 
Anglo-Saxon arms. The "Man of Destiny," who had domina- 
ted European thought and action for fifteen years, who had 


threatened to crush the last remnant of self-government, was 
at last overthrown, and glad huzzas went up from the liberated 
nations of Europe, and it was reahzed that the leadership of 
the world was entrusted to Anglo-Saxon hands and hearts. 

To the casual and unthinking student of history, these 
great battles seem to have caused the change in the history 
of nations. They were, indeed, but results of causes more 
fundamental and far-reaching. 

The first cause that I would assign for this world-suprem- 
acy of the Anglo-Saxon is his ability as a colonizer. Wherever 
he goes he makes his resting place a home, not a camping 
ground; a local habitation upon which he bases his affection 
and in which he places his confidence, not a place held through 
political greed, financial avarice, or mihtary pride. The 
Pilgrim Fathers with axe and plow, spelling book and Bible, 
and a thirst for freedom, landed upon the barren shores of 
New England and ere the decline of many suns a thriving 
colony was founded; DeSoto, with a strong Spanish army, 
royally regaled, with martial music and abundance of supplies 
disembarked upon the fertile and friendly shores of Florida, 
and at the end of two years he and all of his splendid army 
had perished in the wilderness without building a single hut 
or clearing a single field. Dupleix, France's greatest genius 
in a foreign land, saw a vision of India as a vast military pos- 
session of France, but had not the colonizing power to perfect 
his empire dream; Clive, with personal initiative, strength of 
character, practical ideas, and Anglo-Saxon ability, appro- 
priated every advantage, overcame every obstacle, conquered 
two hundred and fifty millions of people, and permanently 
established in the Asiatic domain an English stronghold. 
Spain, for three centuries the sole possessor of the Pearl of the 
Antilles, contented herself with holding official position and 
governing the political and military poUcies of the island; 
the United States in eighteen months surrendered those 
privileges to the natives and actively entered agriculture, 
commerce, and industry. The steadfastness and final success 
of Anglo-Saxon colonies depends not upon the crushing of 


existing creeds, but upon the elevation of racial principles; 
not upon with-holding from the people the truths of Ufe, but 
upon freeing the mind and unfettering the soul by giving to 
them the benefits of the printing-press, the school-room, and 
the open Bible. 

Freedom and independence are the watch-words of the 
Anglo-Saxon race. "It is liberty under law that the English- 
speaking people desire; it is liberty, not hcense; civilization, 
not barbarism; it is hberty clad in the celestial robe of law, 
because law is the only authoritative expression of the will 
of the people." The Anglo-Saxon race was the first race to 
win a Magna Charta from a tyrannical king, to free a nation 
from the rashness of an absolute democracy by establishing 
a representative government. It was the first to establish 
trial by jury and habeas corpus, and the first to abolish the 
practice of slavery, to grant liberty of speech, freedom of the 
press, and independence of thought. 

This ability to adapt himself to circumstances and to use 
every difficulty as a cornerstone upon which to build his colony, 
and this high appreciation of individual rights and of personal 
responsibilities is greatly the result of the Anglo-Saxon's edu- 
cation. Every nation has its characteristic education, and 
its method of education mirrors the ideal held by the race; 
Sparta developed the physical being of her men, and ruled 
her provinces by sheer brute force; Athens educated her poets 
and statesmen, and left to following ages a lasting literature; 
modern France trains the memory of her men, and leaves them 
prepared only for tame, automatic officials; Germany forces 
education upon her people, and demands a term of military 
service; but the Anglo-Saxon nations inspire personal desires, 
hopes, and ambitions; arouse independent action, thought, and 
purpose; and above all teach self-confidence and individual 

The reason for the phenomenal success of the Anglo-Saxon 
over all other races of men in colonizing, the cause of his 
appreciation of justice, and the element which characterizes 
his educational methods, is the granite strength and liquid 


transparency of his character. Character, with the heroic 
courage of a CMve, the rehgious fervor of a Washington, and 
the untiring energy and individual action of a Frankhn, is the 
cause of Anglo-Saxon superiority. 

Do you ask me where is the fountain from which flows 
the purest, crystal character? Do you seek for the foundry 
which moulds the noblest and strongest type of manhood? 
Would you know the real secret of the perpetuity of English 
principles and the spread and success of English ideas? If so, 
I point you to the world's greatest institution, the Anglo- 
Saxon home. 

It is there that the race has its strength; it is there that 
the nation must look for safety. Obedience to law and respect 
for its natural officers are first learned in the home. The 
principles of liberty, protection for all, partiality to none, 
are first taught around the fireside. The family hearth-stone 
is the nursery of honor and honesty, and the school of courage 
and patriotism. Alfred was daily taught by a Christian mother, 
and became the founder of the world's greatest race; Pitt was 
reared in a pious English home, and ere his death planned this 
history and shaped the destiny of continents; Washington as 
a child nightly lisped the name of God at the knee of a widowed 
mother, and in manhood became America's greatest soldier 
and statesman, and the father of a vast republic; and Rhodes 
breathed the reverent atmosphere of an English rectory and 
waked to civilization and thrust into action the sleeping nations 
of the Southern hemisphere. 

In our own country, pessimists and politicians point with 
prophetic finger to the passing of the republic. They cry out 
against the usurpation of powers by the President and the 
reckless legislation of Congress, and see in every governmental 
change immediate and irrevocable ruin. But to me these 
are not causes for national uneasiness. National destruction 
comes not from a single act of legislation or presidential tyranny. 
It rests not upon the political chicanery of Tammany Hall 
or the financial speculation of Wall Street, but upon the social 
and moral condition of the home. So long as the Anglo-Saxon 


home keeps its purity, it will retain its power; and so long as 
the home perpetuates its power, the race will increase, its 
possessions will multiply, and its principles will spread till they 
shall dominate the world. 

Do you ask what it is that makes the Anglo-Saxon home 
such a mighty bulwark? Can you not see that it is the great, 
silent, and never-ceasing influence of wife and mother? The 
strength of every nation is in direct proportion to the strength 
of its homes, and the strength of its homes depends directly 
upon the position of its women. France has no homes, there- 
fore her citizens are moral weaklings. The ancients discredited 
their women and their nations soon decayed. The Anglo- 
Saxon recognizes woman as the highest ideal of virtue and 
Christian gentleness, and he continues to prosper above all 
others in the march of civiHzation. 

The imperative duty of our race is obvious. Let it make 
a home of every house where mortal man finds shelter. Let 
it free the mind and unshackle the soul of every creature in 
the image of God. Let it insure the privileges of Christian 
education to every child of earth, and free its people from the 
curse of ignorance and the bane of superstition. Character 
must be instilled, home-life must be preserved, and the honor 
and virtue of woman must be sacredly protected. For if there 
is to be that ideal time of which racial optimists and poets 
tell us, when there shall be a cessation of the war-drum, a 
"parliament of man and a federation of the world," the Anglo- 
Saxon must be the agent, character must be the involved 
principle, the home must be the fountain-head, and womanly 
gentleness and Christian virtue, the inspiration. 


Robert Nelson had just returned from the Philippines 
on account of his health. He had decided to spend his vacation 
with his cousin, who was the manager of the mines at Silver 
Creek. He had been disappointed, to find that his cousin 
was not in Trinity to meet him; instead, there had been a 


telegram saying that there was a strike on at the mines and that 
the men were in an ugly mood; that he had better wait in 
Trinity for a day or two, to see how things would turn out. 
He was sitting that evening on one of the rustic settees on the 
porch of the small hotel. On one side was a corn field; on the 
other, an orchard, and in front, a dusty grass plot. His glance 
wandered to the strip of bottow-land, to the cedar-covered 
railway embankment, and the bare, ugly little station. 

Suddenly, a small girl dashed out of the house, and she 
soon came back and with her a tall girl dressed in a pink cotton 
frock; there was a dainty grace and the indescribable stamp of 
good breeding about her slender figure. As she passed through 
the door. Nelson noted that she had a clear, pale skin and soft 
black hair. The small girl, in what she believed to be a whisper, 
said, "There's a traveller come." "Another patent-medicine 
drummer," came the answer in cool, contemptuous tones. 

Just then the speaker raised her eyes — very pretty grey 
eyes. Nelson thought as they looked into his; her look of aston- 
ishment after a moment changed to a broad smile, and, with 
a haughty little jerk of the head, she swept past Nelson into the 

When Nelson entered the dining-room promptly upon the 
ringing of the supper bell, he found no one there but Mrs. 
Allen, the land lady. She was a tall, gaunt woman, with 
false teeth, and a knot of hair the size of a walnut at the back 
of her head. Presently the tail girl entered following a nervous, 
middle-aged woman and a man whose kindly face attracted 
Nelson at once. They were introduced by Mrs, Allen, as 
Mr, and Mrs, Wharton and Miss Eleanor, Mr, Wharton was 
in Trinity on State affairs. 

Miss Nelson and Wliarton were thrown much together, 
and she evidently believed in accepting the gifts that fell to 
her. At first he was impressed and rather flattered by her 
disposition to converse. After awhile he realized that any one 
would serve for an audience in the town of Trinity, 

Her moods were numerous and varied; Nelson felt that 
there was something uncertain, something shifting about her, 


that he could not place reliance upon her sympathy or even 
her attention. But there were other times when he found her 
simply charming; when they sat on the river bank, from which 
could be heard the monotonous click of the mill, and the swash 
of the mowing at the farm just across the river, he liked her best. 
They talked of everything, from the mountain woman to the 
way the American officers danced. It seemed that she and her 
mother had hved much abroad; indeed she had been studying 
ten years. "Music," she said briefly in answer to Nelson's lazy 
"What, if I may ask?" She added, in response to his look 
of surprise at her brevity, and the fact was that there was 
nothing they had not touched upon. "I am a little tired of it, 
I want to get away from it for awhile." 

Nelson determined to solve it as he would one of the 
puzzles that had always fascinated him. 

To his surprise. Miss Wharton understood this and took 
the greatest pleasure in spreading her mind before him. She 
said suddenly, after a lazy pause, "You like me intellectually. 
You are not quite sure whether I appeal to you in any other 
way or not." 

She smiled at him audaciously. "I could love if I would," 
she added, half sadly, "but I must not." 

Soon after. Nelson went to Silver Creek for a few days. On 
his return he found Trinity unusually excited over the prospect 
of an entertainment. Miss Wharton was to play on her violin. 

After supper. Miss Wharton appeared with a battered 
violin case, which she refused to let out of her hand for a mo- 
ment. Nelson was to accompany her to the entertainment. 
Miss Wliarton walked along with a tripping step and chatter 
of a small girl expecting a treat. 

The entertainment was to be in an old store. There was 
a large crowd awaiting her. She advanced to the front of the 
platform with an easy confidence, and while the first bars of 
the accompaniment were being played, stood with her violin 
loosely held in front of her. Her slender figure in the clinging 
white frock was outlined against the back-ground of palms, 
with here and there a touch of yellow gleaming through. Her 


dark hair waved softly back from her face, her eyes shone, 
her Ups and the coral around her throat were vivid touches of 

She tucked her violin under her chin with professional ease 
and swung into the "Polish Dance." She played with dash, 
vigor and sureness of touch, but Nelson lost sight of that in the 
indefinable and indescribable artist charm and it came to him 
with a little shock that she was an artist, by training and 
temperament; it revealed her to him, made him understand 
her, and yet he felt that it removed her from him. 

When she came down from the platform, she said to him, 
"Let's go;" and when they reached the door, they turned almost 
unconsciously toward the old place on the river bank. 

Miss Wharton walked silently along for a few minutes, 
then touched Nelson's hand with her finger tips; they were icy 
cold. "It always makes me like that," she said. 

A vague jealousy kept Nelson from responding. Miss 
Wharton did not notice his silence. They had reached the 
river and seated themselves on the bank. Miss Wharton 
leaned against the tree; her eyes gleamed in the dusky light, 
her lips parted in a happy smile. He watched her silently. 
He wanted her more than ever he had any other woman, but 
in his feeling there was something of the desire for mastery. 
After a moment he said, "You have not told me what my 
fate is to be." 

Their eyes met and were locked in a long glance. "You 
cannot stay here." 

"Why?" Nelson asked fiercely. 

"My art is my life." 

"And what of love?" he asked. 

"It is not necessary," she answered. "You wiU go away 
and you will forget. You do not love me so very much. You 
see, I know — other men have loved me. Love is not for me, 
at least, not yet awhile." 

They walked silently back to the house, and stood for a 
moment at the gate. 

"I love you," Nelson said. 


She looked up at him, her lips quivered a little. "I cannot 
escape my fate," she answered. 

He held out his hands. "I shall not see you again," she 
said, and with one sad look she left him. 

L. R. O'B. 


In the hustling little town of Oden, in southern Alabama, 
I began my career as book-keeper. I had engaged myself to 
the firm of James & Co., and for several months had been kept 
very busy, owing to the immense amount of business the firm 

Among my few acquaintances in the town was a young 
lawyer, Harry Hardy, who for two years had been practicing 
law in Oden. But the six years before taking up the profession 
of law. Hardy had been in the employ of the U. S. Government, 
as a detective. Resigning this position, he had entered into 
the profession for which he seemed best suited, and the one 
which he had always desired to follow. 

Hardy was a man of large stature. He possessed a mild 
disposition and was very attractive and handsome as well as 
brilliant. In the short time he had been in the town he had 
won for himself many friends as well as built up an extensive 
law practice. It seemed that everything to which he turned 
his hand proved a success. For he had not only succeeded 
in building himself up in his profession, and in the hearts of the 
people in general, but had been succeessful in winning the 
love of one of the most beautiful and accomplished young 
ladies in Oden. He was soon to be married to Miss Hattie 
Phillips, the daughter of the Mayor. 

Often "Harry" — as I had learned to call him — would come 
into my office and talk for hours with me about his affairs. 
One day just as I had finished posting my books, and was seated 
for a little rest, Harry came into my office. I greeted him as 
usual and offered him a chair, but noticed that he looked 
different from what he had before. I coromented on the cool- 


ness of the weather, but Harry answered nothing,as he sat there 
puffing from his mouth the fumes of a cigar. He looked excited. 
The expression on his face told me that something serious had 
come into his life. Always before he was cheerful and had 
some pleasant word to speak to me. But now it was different. 
He scarcely spoke as he entered. No smile was on his face, 
and his whole body seemed to be undergoing a great strain. 
I expected every moment that he would say something, but 
not a word did he utter, as he gazed excitedly at the red-hot 
stove in front of him. 

On inquiring as to the cause of all this, he told me how 
that he had been painfully insulted, and refused entrance into 
the mayor's house; that being falsely accused of murder the 
entire town had lifted a hand of opposition against him. 

The facts in the case were, that on the night before Harry 
came into my office he called, as was his custom, to see Hattie. 
On entering the house he had been met by a painful sight. 
Hattie, with eyes filled to overflowing with tears, rushed out 
and plead with him not to enter the house, telling him that her 
father had threatened his life if again he should enter his door. 
It was an awful scene to Harry — the girl who had always 
received him kindly, now begging him to leave the house, and 
the home that had ever thrown its doors open to him, now 
closing them in his face. Harry was perplexed. His whole 
mind was in a whirl. His inquiries as to the cause of trouble 
were only answered by the faint sobs of his once cheerful 
sweetheart, and his demands that he should be allowed entrance 
until he should know the trouble were only met by earnest 
pleadings that he go away. The painfulness of the scene was 
only heightened by the appearance of the Mayor himself. 
Hattie no longer plead with her lover, but in an instant had her 
father wrapped in her arms and his ears filled with pleadings 
that Harry would soon go away and that he should not treat 
him with such contempt. But all to no avail, for Harry was 
urged from the house at the point of a pistol. 

Harry Hardy, a detective, four years previous, had killed 
a laborer in a milling camp iij the edge of town, and it was 


attested by a number of the laborers, that this was the same 
"Harry Hardy." These laborers had reported the matter to 
the Mayor and Harry was arrested on the following day. He 
was thrust in the city jail to await his trial which was to take 
place on the next Wednesday. 

Harry's downfall seemed certain. He who only a week 
before was enjoying life, was now spending his time in the cell 
of a jail. His career as a lawyer once so prosperous, was now 
at an end. Those who a few days before were his friends 
were now his enemies. Few were left to sympathize. Although 
public sentiment was against him, I could not help but Iiave 
faith in those earnest denials which came from his lips. Among 
his few sympathizers was Hattie, who had never faltered in her 
devotion to him; often she had said to me that she could never 
be made to believe that Harry was a criminal. But the fates 
were against us; we were powerless in the hands of our many 

The trial day was fast approaching, but still we could get 
no proof that Harry was innoccent. His father had come to 
his rescue, and was making every effort to disclose the matter, 
but thus far had nothing except Harry's statement that he was 
in the West at the time of the murder of which he was accused, 
and the more we worked to clear up the matter the more 
opposition we met with. There seemed no way to arrest the 
rumors which were floating from one to another. Since the 
laborers had made the accusation a number of the citizens 
of the town were now ready to swear that they remembered 
this same man to have been in the town at the time of the 
murder. The condition was a critical one for Harry. 

Just one week from the time that Harry came into my 
office to relate the sad story, his father and myself were seated 
there discussing plans for the defense. No progress had been 
made. As our last resort, we had decided to have the trial 
continued, until further evidence could be secured. 

Amid these meditations, a tap was heard on the door, 
and a very poorly clad old man entered the office. He looked 
excited, and seemed to be very nervous. But despite all this 


the very expression on his face told us good news. We were 
filled with hope when he told us that he had come to disclose 
the matter of Harry's imprisonment and if possible to bring 
the prosecution to an end. And it was with eager ears that we 
listened to his story: How, that Harry Hardy, the murderer, 
and Harry Hardy, the lawyer, were different men; that the 
prosecution thus far had been conducted on false accusations; 
that the whole matter was a plot, and had been traced to John 
Griffin, a young physician at the milling camp. 

The facts were, that this John Griffin was a rival of Harry's 
and in hie suit for Hattie, had met defeat at the hands of Harry 
Hardy. Griffin had learned of the murder of the laborer and 
seeing the close relation of Hardy, the murderer, and Hardy, 
the lawyer, had set upon this plan to secure the downfall of 
Harry. He had employed these laborers to make the accusa- 
tions against Harry, but when they were brought to realize 
the condition of affairs, they sent this old man to us to correct 
the fault. 

We had no trial. Harry again resumed his law practice, 
and immediately regained his place in the hearts of the people. 
But best of all, Harry was made to know truly that, through all 
his afflictions, Hattie's devotion to him had never faltered, and 
that now he was restored to all his former relations. 

C. Lamar Neill, '07. 


"Maria, I don't see why you don't let me take up that 
there bet of Hiram Jones. This old craft needs a new sail," 
said Ben Williams, slowly shifting the helm of the "Betty Lee." 

"No, Ben, there ain't a bit o' sense in yer tryin' to race 
with sech old riggin' as this. You know you can't beat Hiram, 
and I ain't goin' to risk my neck on here with you. So jest 
hush," answered the real captain of the little schooner. 

The crew of the "Betty," Ben and his wife, were well 
known all along the coast, Maria being a born commander, 
Ben the commanded. Ben was a man of few words, Maria, 


a woman of many. For thirty years she had been giwng 
orders, he obeying without question. For thirty years Ben 
had not rebelled against his petticoat government, but today 
this long subjection was brought to a climax when old Hiram 
Jones, skipper of the "Jersey" had laughed tantalizingly at 
the "Betty," and added to the insult by challenging Ben to a 
race to the bay for a new set of sails. 

"I've got to get dinner now. You won't need these to- 
morrow till you go ashore anj^ways, so there ain't no hurry 
'bout patchin' 'em. Don't git no crazy notion while Fm 
gone, but sail easy and don't strain that 'er jib," ordered 
"Captain" Maria as she disappeared down the narrow stairway. 
"Fll be keel-handed," muttered Ben, taking a fresh quid of 
tobacco, "but Fd jest like to show old 'Jersey' the way into 
the bay, and that the 'Betty' ain't so old and worn-out ez 
she looks." He was thinking of the time when the "Bettj^" 
broke the records in all the races, and how he would like to 
have her redeem the thirty years of slurs against her "lazy 
saihn," and his subordination. "Why shouldn't I?" he ex- 
claimed, throwing back his head rebelliously. "Mutiny? 
Well! Yes, the 'Betty I^ee' must have new sails! Think of 
taking the conceit out of old Hiram Jones, too!" 

The more he thought of it the more convinced he became 
that the sails should be won. A clatter of tinware came to 
his ears from below, and as he suddenly let out the sails the 
cabin door swung to with a bang. The padlock snapped into 
place and then "Captain" was locked in! Chance had done 
more for the race than Ben would have dared. 

A volley of questions and demands came up from below, 
but it was all Ben could do to manage the schooner with her 
sudden increase of speed in the stiff gale. He well knew all 
hopes were lost if he unfastened that door, and, besides, he 
could explain to Maria better afterwards. 

Ben's attention was fLxed on the "Jersej^" just ahead, 
whose skipper was making a desperate effort to hold his own 
since he had observed that the wager must have been accepted. 
The "Jersey's" lead was slowly slipping from her, for the old 


weather-beaten "Betty" was plunging recklessly ahead, her 
dingy black sails creaking in the wind. As he caught up with 
the other boat Ben shouted excitedly, "Hi, thar! We wants 
that set o' new sails for the first one in the bay." 

Hiram nodded, grinned, and called in reply, "Yes, and I'll 
be blowed if I don't throw in a coat o' paint, too. The 'Betty' 
sure needs one." 

Ben glanced up at the old patched-up sails and hoped 
that they could stand the strain, and he also noted the strong 
ones of the "Jersey." So pleased was Ben with his success thus 
far, and so well was the "Betty" bearing herself, that he fastened 
the tiller and slipped down to the cabin door and called out, 
"Say, Maria, what ye' doin'?" 

"What under the sun air ye a doin' with this boat?" was 
the retort. 

"I'm goin' to win that bet, Maria, and you'll be glad I — " 

"Just open this door, Ben Williams, an' let me out o' here 
an' I'll put a stop to this here foolishness pretty quick now, 
I tell ye. D'ye hear me?" shouted the deposed captain. 

"You couldn't stand on deck fer the rockin," Maria, so 
what's the use o' comin' up? I'm goin' to have new sails and 
paint fer the old 'Betty' or know the reason why." 

The old schooner lunged, and Ben flew back to the helm 
to steady her and urge her forward. It was dusk, and as Ben 
peered out he could see the "Jersey" lagging behind, and just 
ahead the lights in the bay. 

Five days later the "Betty Lee" sailed back into the home 
port in a coat of dazzling white paint, and with a set of snowy 
sails above. Clearly the mutiny was forgiven, for Ben stood 
at the helm serenety puffing his pipe while Maria sat beside 
him busily engaged in sewing a great patch in "Captain Wil- 
liams" shore trousers. 

A. Junior. 



Vol. 8. Jackson, Miss., November, J 905. No. U 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College. 

J. A. Baker Editor-in-Chief 

W. A. Williams Associate Editor 

R. B. Carr Local Editor 

Frances Park — Literary Editor 

E. C. McGiLVRAY Alumni Editor 

L. E. Price Business Manager 

J. C. Neill, J. C. Rousseaux Assistant Business Managers 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to L. E. Price. 

Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be 

sent to J. A. Baker, Editor-in-Chief. 

Issued the 1st op Each Month During the College Year. 

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


± ^ ± 

With what feelings of pleasure and hope do 
Welcome! we begin a new scholastic year! The famiUar 
faces of the old students awaken pleasant mem- 
ories of the past session. In some we see our hopes realized, 
in others we are disappointed, yet for all have we a pleasant 
word and greeting. To the new students, our greeting is no 
less sincere. 

On us all rests a great responsibility, a responsibility that 
will materially affect our future life. We are here in search 
of knowledge — that "sesame" which opens unto you and 
reveals the hidden secrets of the past. What is it that the past 
does not conceal? The future is no less uncertain to us than 
the present was to the past. All of life is an uncertainty. 
We live today and know not what tomorrow may have in store 
for us. Our optimistic minds may lead us to dream of a 


golden future, to bufld our hopes and aspirations and to in- 
struct our lives according to its whim. The pessimist dreams 
of a past glory that cannot be ours — so he thinks — and pictures 
the future as dark and distrustful. Yet in both of these beliefs, 
or views, there are dangers to be reckoned with; in the one, 
excessive faith and trust will lead one to discredit evil in- 
fluences and cause him to plan his future in accordance with 
his hopes; in the other, disbelief and distrust robs hfe of faith 
and contentment, making it a hermitage. 

Thus, all of these are uncertainties; the past is the only 
certainty in so far as we may know its secrets, that we are 
enabled to rightly judge. The present holds nothing in its 
grasp. Each second finds its grip relax on the past and tighten 
on the future, it is the parting of the two. If the past is full 
of instruction, is it not the heritage of us all? Why, then, do 
you not take advantage of present opportunities to come in 
closer touch with what was, what is, what is to be? Knowl- 
edge is but the expression of facts grouped together. It is 
not subject to the changes of fashions and customs, it is a 
constant quantity. We can have no knowledge of future 
events and workings; they are only hopes and beliefs based 
upon knowledge of past attainments. The inventor may 
have every faith in his work and know almost to a certainty 
the perfect workings of the structure before he constructs it. 
Yet his knowledge of its utility is based upon established 
laws and principles which he has followed in its construction. 

It is always an advantage to begin work honestly 
College and with a determination to succeed. But some 
Honor. of us are less fortunate in that we will let ourselves 
be influenced to do things that will detract 
greatly from our moral character. "Cheating," "jacking," 
or by whatever name it may be known, is the greatest evil 
that confronts the college man. It saps him of all moral 
courage and manhood. By stealth and deception he grasps 
honor that rightly belongs to another. He is a stranger to 
honesty and fairness, his mind and body ahke are slaves to 


this disgraceful practice. Encouraging laziness and indifference 
by its misplaced conception of right and wrong, the evil in- 
fluence is not easily estimated. The mile stones along the 
college highway, have on each a history written. Some are 
memorials of temporary success through dishonesty, ending 
in disgrace; while there are others, though they may have 
failed at times, their life was successful, since it was honest 
and sincere. It is not the millionaire nor capitalist that makes 
life a success, it is the man with a clear conscience and honest 
dealings that makes true success. 

According to an unwritten custom in vogue at 
The this institution, the Collegian passes from tried 
Collegian, hands to an inexperienced staff. With what 
success the former staff met is well known, its 
able management and publication won worthy praise at our 
commencement. With this as an incentive to our lack of 
experience, we hope, with the hearty co-operation of the student 
body to make this the most successful year in the history of 
our college organ. How much depends upon the students is 
readily recognized when the purpose of the magazine is under- 
stood. It is not published with an idea of pecuniary reward, 
but to voice the sentiments of the student body. Your pride 
of college, and college life, causes you to feel an interest in the 
magazine, but does it interest you enough for you to try by 
your own efforts to make it a success? If not, your interest 
amounts to nothing and is only misleading. 

In the interest of the Collegian and to encourage story- 
writing, Prof. Kern, of the Chair of English, has generously 
offered a prize of ten dollars to the one contributing the best 
story to the Collegian during the year. But aside from this, 
if you do not win the prize — and only one can — the benefits 
derived from such an undertaking will more than compensate 
you for the time and efforts expended. 

The following are the rules and regulations governing the 


1. All contestants must have at least two contributions 
in the current volume of the Collegian, 

2. A contestant who has won a prize shall not be eligible 
to the same prize a second time. 

3. The contest is open to none but bona fide students of 
Millsaps College. 

4. The contributions in the May number of the Collegian 
are not eligible to the prize. 

We are glad to note that our professors were not idle 
during the summer, but have kept apace with the times. 
Professor James Elliott Walmsley, of the Chair of History 
and Economics, has been engaged in connection with the 
Mississippi Historical Society. A reprint from their publica- 
tion discloses some very interesting letters relating to the 
imprisonment and release of Jefferson Davis, by Prof. Walms- 
ley. M. W, Swartz, Professor of Latin and Greek, has written 
a "Topical Analysis of the Latin Verb." This book is of great 
value to the Latin students, as it is a classification of Latin 
Syntax. It is now in use as a text book and gives perfect sat- 
isfaction. Both publications are of interest to the public; 
the one as a historical fact, the other, as a help to students. 


± . ± 

R. B. CARR. 

After a delay of six weeks, caused by the presence of yel- 
low fever in the state, Millsaps began its Fourteenth Session 
on November 2. The prospects are for an increase over 
last year. 

Among the prominent visitors present at the opening 
exercises were Bishop Chas. B. Galloway, Maj. R. W. Millsaps, 
Rev. Dr. LaPrade, Rev. H. M. EUis and Mr. J. C. Cavett, of 
Jackson; Rev. W. S. Lagrone, of Durant; Hon. W. A, Belk, of 
Holly Springs; and Dr. John B. Howell, of Canton. Dr. La 
Prade led devotional exercises. 


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

Prof. Walmsley, J. A. Baker and D. B. Huddleston were 
elected as the Executive Committee of the Tennis Association. 
The Co-eds were elected as honorary members of the Association. 

Miss M. H. Robertson has been appointed assistant hbra- 
rian for the year '05-'06. 

Dr. T. B. Holloman, of Vicksburg, led the devotional 
exercises on the morning of Nov. i:nd. We are always glad to 
have the Doctor with us. 

D. C. Enochs, of Brandon, visited club mates on the cam- 
pus this month. 

On Friday night, Nov. 3, the Young Men's Christian Asso- 
ciation entertained the entire student body in their parlors 
at the main building. Delightful refreshments were served 
and much credit is due the reception committee, Messrs. L. 
E. Price, W. F. Murrah, and C. C. Applewhite. 

Millsaps has more Co-eds this year than usual. There 
are five in the Freshman class. Of course this is what makes 
the class so attractive. 

At a meeting of the executive committee of the Athletic 
Association held Nov. 8, Mr. Gieger was appointed manager 
of the Basket Ball team. 

On Nov. 1, Dr. E. H. Galloway, an honored alumnus of 
our College, was married to Miss Mable Johnson, of this city, 
Bishop Chas. B. Galloway officiating. After the wedding a 
reception was tendered them at the residence of the bride's 
father, Mr.J. S. Johnson. Dr. and Mrs. Galloway left imme- 
diately for their bridal tour, visiting several nothem points. 

Among the old students present at the opening of school 
were: Rev. W. W. Holmes, '00, who also received his B. D. 
at Vanderbilt in 1903, and is now stationed at New Orleans; 


Rev. W. A. Terry, '04, who is pastor of a large and flourishing 
church at Vicksburg; M. S. Pittman, '05, Professor of Science 
and Mathematics in Monroe High School, Monroe, La.; Rev. 
J. W. McGee, '05, now a resident of the city of Jackson; L.F. 
Barrier, '05, a promising merchant of Rolling Fork; Rev. 
J. S. Purcell, '05, pastor of the Methodist church at Thomasville. 

Subscribe for the Collegian! 

"Port" Mohler, after spending the summer writing life 
insurance, is back at College, telhng yarns as big as ever. He 
should do well as an insurance agent — he is so gifted. 

Prof. Morrison of Belhaven and Dr. Swartz of Millsaps 
have arranged for a joint lyceum course for the two colleges. 
The course arranged for the j^ear '05-06 is as follws: Chas. 
Lane, Thos. McCleary, Humorists; Geo. R. Wendling, DeWitt 
Miller, Lecturers; and the Odeon Male Quartette. This is 
a new undertaking for Millsaps, but we are confident that it 
will be a scucess. Boys, you should buy a season ticket 
now, as they are much cheaper than if you should buy them 

The Kappa Sigma Fraternity was the host at a very 
enjoyable smoker at their chapter house on the evening of 
the 11th. 

Be sure that you join one of the Literary Sosieties. 

The members of the faculty enjoyed their summer at 
various places. Dr. Kern, at Pt. Comfort and Shawnee Springs, 
Va., the latter part of the summer he spent in special work 
at Vanderbilt; Prof. 0. H. Moore, at CarroUton, Mo.; Dr. 
Sulhvan, at Sardis, Miss.; Prof. Walmsley, at Bedford City, 
Va.; Prof. Huddleston, at Harpersville, Miss.; Dr. Murrah, 
Dr. J. A. Moore, Prof. Ricketts and Dr. Swartz remained in 

At the first business meeting of the Y. M. C. A. about 40 
new members were received. 

The Athletic Association held its first meeting on Nov. 3d. 


The principal business of the meeting was to decide whether 
Millsaps ; would accept the offer to play a series of foot 
ball games with Jackson, The first of these games will be 
played during the Industrial Exposition, Mr. J, L. Neill was 
elected manager of the Varsity Eleven, The class teams 
will begin practice at once, so that the Varsity team may be 
selected from them as soon as polssibe. Dr. A, A. Kern will 
act as coach, Millsaps won the game from Jackson last year 
by a score of 10-0, and there is no reason why she should not 
win this also. 

The first regular meeting of the Galloway Literary Society 
was held last Friday night. The following officers were 
elected: J. L. Neill, President; 0. Backstrom, Vice-President; 
J. C. Rousseaux, Recording Secretary; S. 0. Carruth, Assistant 
Secretary; C. B. Godbold, Corresponding Secretary; F. F. 
Flint, Treasurer. 

The Lamar Literary Society at its first meeting on Novem- 
ber 10th, elected as officers and speakers for the anniversary 
of the society, which will be held sometime in April, the fol- 
lowing men: W. A. Williams, Anniversarian; L. K. Carlton, 
Orator; J, W. Frost, President; W, F. Murrah, Secretary. 
As its Commencement debaters, the Society selected the two 
following able men: C. H. Kirkland, First Debater; S, I. 
Osborne, Second Debater, Messrs, Jeff Collins and A, L. 
Rogers were elected as the Literary Editors, and J. L. Berry, 
as Assistant Business Manager of the Bobashela. 




Students in Latin are finding the labor of looking up Gram- 
mar references much lessened by the use of a "Topical Analysis 
of the Latin Verb," by Prof. M. W. Swartz, Chair of Latin and 
Greek. It is a classification of all the Latin Syntax bearing 
on the verb, and a great aid to undergraduates, for it is only 


through classification that we grasp a scientific knowledge of 
any subject. 

A most interesting and valuable addition to the history 
of our State comes to us in "Some Unpublished Letters of 
Burton N. Harrison," by Prof. J. E. Walmsley, of the Chair 
of History and Economics. Harrison was Jefferson Davis' 
private secretary, and his letters relate to the attempts to 
secure the release of the President and to his actual liberation. 
Not only are they noteworthy as being narrated by an eye- 
witness, but we are at once touched by the constant sohcitude 
of the secretary and by the profound regard expressed in that 
loving tribute — "the chief." 

Foot Ball for Player and Spectator. 

By Fielding H. Yost, The University Press, Ann Arbor, 

March, 1905. 

Of especial interest to college men at this season of the 
year is "Football for Player and Spectator," by the great 
"Hurry-up" coach of the premier University of Michigan team. 
Football literature up to the present time has been rather 
scarce and of doubtful quality, having been confined chiefly 
to articles, guides, booklets, and "dope" in general, with here 
and there a real book on the game. Mr. Yost's volume not 
only belongs to the latter class but also takes rank as among 
the best of them. 

The author was well qualified for his work, having had that 
best of recommendations, successful results — the goal line of 
the maize and blue has not been crossed since Mr. Yost took 
charge of football affairs at Ann Arbor. As the "get there" 
man of the game, as a strategist without a peer, and above 
all as the most successful coach that ever wore the mole-skin, 
he occupies a commanding position upon the gridiron. And 
it is worthy of note for us in the South that this season four of 
the leading Southern teams are being coached by his pupils, 
one of them, Dan McGugin, having hfted Vanderbilt far above 


any other college in the S. I. A. A. and forced her to seek else- 
where for elevens worthy of her skill. 

Mr. Yost has solved in an excellent manner that most 
difficult of problems in the writing of a text book — to treat the 
subject scientifically and techincally, and yet make it clear 
and interesting — and as the title implies the volume may be 
read with profit by all football enthusiasts, from the Thanksgiv- 
ing "rooter" to the head coach. 

Only a few of the topics discussed can be mentioned here. 
The origin and development of the game and its relation to 
college life are first traced, followed by a description of a 
contest from the spectator's point of view. After a brief 
sketch of the style of play in vogue at the large Universities, 
the game is taken up in detail and valuable suggestions are 
made as to passing the ball, starting, catching, kicking, the 
method of playing the individual positions, etc., as well as 
points upon training, team work, signals, and the like. Over 
sixty photographs of actual plays and players made under 
Mr. Yost's personal supervision serve to illustrate clearly the 
points made in the text. The work closes with what will 
probably prove to be its most valuable feature, the formations 
and diagrams with full explanation of more than fifty of the 
plays which have made the Michiganders invincible for the past 
four years. 

We quote a few of the famous "Hurry-Ups," which have 
given the coach his name: 

"Hurrp up!" 

"Hurry up and fine up. The next play cannot start until 
you are ready." 

"Hurry up and follow the ball. No one can play the game 
unless he is with the ball all the time." 

"Hurry up and learn the signals. You cannot play a fast 
game unless you know them instantly." 

"Hurry up and tackle the nmner. Do not expect any one 
else to do it. See to it that j^ou throw him toward his own goal." 



± , . ± 


We enter upon our work with feelings of embarrassment 
and incompetency. This department has been filled by our 
strongest men and we cannot without considerable exertion 
maintain the standard they have set. Still, we take up with 
pleasure, too, the work that will acquaint us with the students 
of other institutions. We say "acquaint" for by their 
work we shall know them. Through their magazine the in- 
tellectual powers and college spirit of student bodies can well 
be judged. 

We send greeting to all the college journals and wish them 
a successful year. 

On account of quarantine regulations that were in force 
in this state for several months the opening of our school was 
postponed until November, hence the omission of our October 
number. We hope now, however, to take our place among the 
other journals. We are anxious to receive all former exchanges 
and to add new ones to the list. We regret that we have 
received so few exchanges up till this time. 

Castle Heights Herald is one of the few exchanges that 
has reached us. The mechanical features are good and the 
editors are ahve to their work. "Newspaper Reading" is a 
forcibly written essay in which the writer convincingly points 
to the evil tendencies of the current newspaper, for example, 
in its inferior quality of fiction, slangy writing, sensational 
articles, and to undue prominence given to murders and other 
things that constitute the dark side of life. He concludes 
rightly, we think, that newspapers should be read with careful 
selection, and eloquently appeals for the selection of the better 
class of periodical literature. 

The Ouachita Ripples is one of the most enterprising pub- 


lications that has reached us. Wliile it contains some medium 
verse and a number of fairly good essays, it is the business 
managers who are most worthy of commendation. They are 
patriotic enough to offer two gold medals in the interest of the 
magazine, on.e for the best prose article of the year, the other 
for the best poem. 

We acknowledge the following October journals: Monroe 
College Monthly, The Baylor Literary, Castle Heights Herald, 
The Ouachita Ripples, The Columbia Collegian, The Review, 
and Bulletin. 


Once upon an evening dismal, 

I handed her a paroxysmal 

Kiss, and spoke her name baptismal, 

Spoke her name — it was Lenore; 
Ah, she was a scrumtious creature, 
Glib of tongue and fair of feature, 
But, alas! I couldn't teach her. 

For she had been there before — 
And she winked at me, and murmured. 

Murmured the one word: "Encore!" 

Only that — and nothing more. — Ex 

They say that opposites should wed; 

Too much alike, you'll clash; 
And so I'm looking for a girl 

Possessed of lots of cash. — Ex. 

A Proof of Darwinianism. 

Monkey and a Freshman 

Sitting on a rail. 
Couldn't tell the difference 

'Cept the monkey had a tail. — Ex. 


A Change. 

With her he used to sit up nights, 

He doesn't do it now; 
He used to woo her with a vim 
Within the curtained parlor dim, 
For she was all the world to him, 

He doesn't do it now. 

He used to praise her hair and eyes. 

He doesn't do it now; 
And hsten for her low replies, 

He doesn't do it now; 
He used to wish he had the sand 
To try a hug, and kiss her, and 
Ask her to let him hold her hand; 

He doesn't do it now. 

And she — she used to frizz her hair. 

She doesn't do it now; 
And list for his step on the stair. 

She sometimes does that now; 
She used to greet him every night 
With hair and dress and ribbons right, 
And her two eyes with love alight; 

She doesn't do it now. 

He came at early candle light. 

He doesn't do it now; 
She sang aloud, her heart was light; 

She doesn't do it now; 
Ah, no; things are not as they were. 
They sit not side by side and purr, 
It's different twixt him and her; 

They're married now. — Ex 


Went to college, 

Joined the 'leven, 
Played one game, 

Went to Heaven. — Ex. 

Love's Power. 

To love is sweet, if love for love is given, 

'Tis joy supreme when hopes by naught are riven, 

But ah! 'tis hard when love is unrequited; 

When hopes are snapped, and life remains unlighted. 

He loved her true. His heart for her was yearning, 

As day by day the lesson he was learning; 
The lesson sweet of love for one so wininng. 
Though weal or woe, it had a bright beginning. 

He needs must speak, his heart compelled the telhng 
Of love so pure that, in his heart upwelling. 

Made hfe, apart from her, scarce worth the living; 

For love is not complete in only giving. 

His tale he told: that love would crush or make him. 

With her he'd rise; else fortune would forsake him; 
For love gives hope, and hope gives strength for action. 
But love unloved makes all dissatisfaction. 

We often know, but hear no message spoken, 

That love is true, or in a moment broken. 
A song, a word, a sigh oft tells the story 
Of doubt and grief; of happiness and glory. 

A mocking-bird its nightly song was singing; 

Within his heart a song of love was ringing. 
As softly toward the gate his way he wended. 
And with his heart all nature smoothly blended. 

A. T. Hind, in The Emory Phoenix. 



± ± 


The Alumni Department of the Collegian should be of 
great concern to the present student body as well as to Millsaps 
graduates, for here it is that we learn of the fellows who have 
met, faced, and overcome the problems which we are now 
meeting with. Boys, you have won! A hundred and twenty- 
six almnni! How am I to give a regular biography of each? 
Simply by the co-operation of every alumnus. If you know 
anything about yourself or anybody else, write to me and let 
me know all about it, for you should want this part of the 
Collegian to come up well. In fact, if you could see me 
racing wildly around and tearing my hair, trying in vain to 
think of something to say about all of you, you would send in 
an account of yourself, or some friend that you wish puffed. 

Dr. J. B. Howell, '02, our jolly quarter-back of 1900, was 
here at the opening. John hasn't lost any of his athletic en- 
thusiasm, for he says that he and the Canton boys will play us 
any time. Dr. Howell has a good practice in his home town. 

Rev. W. W. Holmes, '00, attended the annual reception 
of the Y. M. C. A. Mr. Holmes is a B. D. graduate of Vander- 
bilt, and is now pastor of Carrollton Avenue Church, New 

It was gratifying to learn that Rev. A. H. Shannon, '98, 
is President of Columbia College, Milton, Oregon. Columbia 
College is the property of the M. E. Church, South. Professor, 
we wish you much success and perfect health. 

"Pitt" came to see us the other day. May be struck by 
one of "Cupid's" most dangerous darts — will it prove fatal? 
In fact, "Dan Cupid" has been quite busy since last session 
any way. W. N. Duncan and E. B. Allen, '05, got married 
within two months after graduation. But the blind god did not 
stop with two; he hurled his darts at three more of the alumni. 
B,. E. Eaton, '01, was married to Miss Helen Simpson; Dr. 



"Bert" Galloway, to Miss Mable Johnson; and L. P. Wasson, 
to Miss Murphy. Cupid, this is encouraging to the class of 1906 ! 
The College boys were delighted to receive a number of 
old friends back to their Alma Mater, among whom we mention 
Rev. W. A. Terry, of Vicksburg; J. S. Purcell, of Thomasville; 
0. W. Bradley, Braxton; and T. M. Bradley, Pinola. 


Vol. 8* Jackson, Miss*, December, 1905. No. 2. 


The representative bodies of all countries where such 
exist, have found it impossible to dispose of legislation as 
a body, with any degree of expedition and satisfaction. Hence 
they have invented several means of hastening their work, 
at the same time endeavoring to secure for the subjects of 
legislation the greatest practicable amount of attention and 
talent. The two principal forms which these devices have 
taken are the Cabinet of the English Parliament, and the 
Committees of the United States Congress. Their purposes 
are the same — to dispense with legislation without unnecessary 
friction and delay. Parliament seeks this end by a concen- 
tration of powers and responsibilities in the Cabinet. Con- 
gress, on the contrary, seeks it by a division of the labor of 
of legislation and of responsibility among several bodies 
instead of entrusting it to one. Both have arisen from 
exigency, and not from Constitutional provisions, and it is 
a debatable and very interesting question as to which form 
of government is the better. 

A comparison of the two methods may afford inferences 
which will help us to decide which works best, not in theory 
but as a matter of fact. 

There is really no leader in Congress. The Speaker of 
the House weilds more influence than any other individual, 
but it is indirectly through his power of appointing the Chair- 
man of Committees. These are the real leaders, so there 
are as many leaders as there are committees. This division 
of power must tend to lack of unity. There can never be that 
force and direction in committee government that there is 


in Parliament, where power is concentrated and made effective 
by vesting in one committee with a singleness of purpose. 

Another serious defect of committee government is that 
the individual member of Congress, as such, has compar- 
atively no influence, no opportunities to make himself known 
and felt. He cannot advance a step in legislation, nor exercise 
any influence save through and by consent of the committees. 
In Parliament, it is different. Of course the Cabinet has the 
initiative in legislation, but the friend or foe of a measure 
has full opportunity to make himself heard with regard to it. 
More than this, committee government stifles discussions. 
Popular governments have always arisen and must always 
be maintained largely throughout argument and discussion. In 
a representative government this must be largely confined 
to its legislators. To kill discussion here is to lose the ben- 
efits of pitting mind against mind, which is recognized as a 
most salutory thing in all questions, and especially so in 
questions of government. Hence, to restrain argument 
is to check a force which has partly made, and the lack of 
which may largely contribute toward the unmaking of popular 

Moreover it is sometimes uncertain as to which one of 
the committees a bill should go, hence, this is another place 
for vascillation in policy which never exists in Parliament, 
for in Parliament there is one general committee, the Cabinet 
composed of skilled leaders in political questions, and fitted 
and expected to cope with all questions of legislation which 
can arise. Committees are at best an indirect form of gov- 
ernment, and hence must be slower and more cumbersome 
than legislation initiated by a cabinet, and thus placed directly 
before the House to stand or fall on its merits. Very few 
of the bills committeed are ever favorably reported on. In 
fact a great many are never reported on at all. What op- 
portunity have the representatives of the nation to know 
of the worth of a measure? A small body like a committee 
is much more easily influenced than a large one. Who knows 
what deals may take place in committee room? The influence 


of lobbyists has often disgraced Congressmen. How much 
greater is the influence than the people ever know about! 
The men who shaped our government, and set its machinery 
in motion, were very jealous of concentrated power; on the 
theory that concentrated power is irresponsible power. 

But the theory has been reversed by the practice of Con- 
gress. Distributed and delegated power has become irre- 
sponsible power. A committee is not responsible to the 
people, for it does not represent the people, but Congress; 
it is not responsible to Congress, for Congress has left the affairs 
of legislation on a particular subject fully in its hands, without 
any restrictions on its powers. 

Besides this, the proceedings of committees are private 
and their discussions are not published, so the nation cannot 
be informed nor instructed, nor public opinion properly 
trained. This is one of the most serious faults of committee 
government. Public opinion must be the ultimate arbiter 
in all the gravest questions of national import. If a people's 
legislators prove untrue or inefficient, they should know it, 
and bring them to task. 

If an important question arises in the course of leg-is 
lation, public opinion has a right to be informed thereof, 
so that the sovereign people may make their wishes known. 

Another advantage of Parliament — any procedure over 
Congressional is the fact that in the former body discussion 
attracts the attehtion and directly confronts the Ministry 
by the opposition, the majority by the minority. An 
overwhelming majority is the most absolute tyrant on earth, 
and only the persistence of the minority can dethrone it. If 
the minority has no opportunity to make itself felt, its force 
is lost, and any system which does not pay due regard to its 
minority is so far a failure. In the House of Commons, every 
important vote means defeat for one party and triumph 
for the other; and thus, probably at least means the triumph 
or defeat of a general principle. 

In Congress, on the contrary, a defeat or triumph is not 
that of a party or a principle, but only the defeat of a minority 


in a committee, and thus it is impossible consistently to carry 
out the policy of either party. But practical politics dem- 
onstrates the fact that it is highly desirable that legislation 
should directly represent the action of parties as such, when 
these parties can be made responsible to the people. Indeed, 
here is a mode of "check-and balance" on which the makers 
of the Constitution did not reckon, for who could then see 
the lines along which men would arrange their views into 
two opposing parties which should alternately check the 
excesses of each other? There is great probability that the 
party system, necessarily arranging its views along more 
distinct lines of policy, would have been a means of checking 
any dangerous tending of legislation without the elaborate 
"set offs" of power that retard and endanger legislation as 
often as they insure it. 

As we study our system of Congressional government 
more closely we become more and more convinced that is it 
not that ideal of perfection which we have been taught to 

We see, too, that its most successful methods and prin- 
ciples are derived from English precedents. Drinking deep 
from the political philosophy of the eighteenth century, the 
founders of our government built up a political structure 
which reminds one of an old English palace, which has been 
added to from age to age, and represents Roman, Greek, 
Moorish and Gothic architecture with a strictly modern addi- 
tion. The structure is beautiful, but the modern addition 
adds little to it, and the whole, while apparently fitted for 
all uses, proves unsatisfactory to the dweller. The functions 
of our government have been so elaborately discriminated 
and disturbed, that the very means by which responsibility 
to the people was sought to be effected has proven the de- 
struction of such responsibility. According to a prevalent 
theory of the time, the legislature was made entirely indepen- 
dent of the executive, and thus an advantage which has proven 
one of the most effective schemes in English government 
was lost. 


But even granting many failures in our system, it is 
still contended that we have the best system for Americans, 
I accept cannot even this view without the further significant 
qualification that it was the best that could be secured when 
it was organized. 

At that time, the English government was what it is now, 
in name only, and the workings of its system hardly worthy 
of imitation. Moreover, we could not wait for government 
to grow, so the best that could be done was to imitate what 
was thought best in the governments of other countries. 
But we are Englishmen by race and largely by institutions, 
and nothing in race or custom differentiates us so much that 
we would not find their methods of government best for us 
after the first rude shock of adaption. The genius of the 
Anglo-Saxon feels an inner spirit of rebellion against a system 
which is made to order, and prefers still, as he has always 
done in the past, to make his policies and determine his actions 
as he goes, prompted not by theory but only by exigency 
and expediency. 

J. H. P. 
^ . 


One day this summer an old darkey, called by the white 
people "Uncle Charlie," came into my father's store. 
^r< "Good morning. Uncle Charlie," said my father. "How 
are you feeling this morning?" 

^■? "Poly, poly, boss. I ain't much dis mornin'. If it 
wan't for you good white people, I doan know what dis po' 
ole nigger' d do." 

"ril declare, boss, you's jist de best white man in dis 
whole country. You sho is a good white man, boss. Dis 
ole nigger'd do enythin' in dis wurl' for you, boss." 

"Well, Uucle Charlie, what do you want?" said my father. 

"I doan want nuthin', boss. I jest likes to tell you 
what a good white man you is." 

Turning to me, he continued: "I knowed yo' pa long 
time fo' you's bawn. Me an' him wus boys together. He 


ain't like a heap's other white men. He doan beat and cuss 
de po ole nigger." 

"Speak up, Uncle Charlie, I know you want something," 
said my father. "What is it?" 

"No, sir, boss, I declare I doan want nothin'. I doan 
know where eber I did see as good a man as you is, A — a 
say, boss, loan me er dollar." 

L., '07. 



After being in the tropics for several months, I became 
restless for want of something to do. Many things came 
to my mind, and at last I decided that a fishing trip on the 
ocean would be the best thing to satisfy me. When I men- 
tioned it to two other boys, we all decided on getting a small 
sail boat and making our trip last for several days. Now 
came the question of where we should go. After some argu- 
ments, we decided to go to a small key, which lay about thirty- 
five miles to the northeast of us. 

We made our preparations one evening, and the next 
morning, to our hearts' delight, there was a fresh land wind 
blowing. The sea was comparatively smooth, but there were 
a few waves beginning to break along the beach. 

After loading our boat, we all got on board and set sail 
for the key. For a while we made fine progress, but after a 
little the breeze began freshening up, and we could see white 
caps on almost every wave. The wind continued getting 
stronger, and the waves larger until our little craft had as 
much as she could hold up to. At last, to our great delight, 
we reached the key at about 3 o'clock that afternoon. During 
the rest of the afternoon we were kept busy preparing for 
our stay on the key. There was a vacant house there, of 
which we took possession, and by night we were comfortably 

We remained on the key four days, enjoying ourselves 
fishing, swimming and diving. It is needless to say that 
we had good luck in the line of catching fish, for there has 


never been known a time that a person could not catch in 
those waters from twenty-five to fifty fish in three or four 
hours, We ate as many of them as we could and salted the 
rest to carry back home with us. When we had gotten as 
many as our boat could very well hold our thoughts were 
turned homeward. 

We left the key at about twelve o'clock on the fifth day 
of our arrival. The morning was exceedingly warm, and 
there were several clouds floating overhead, but we did not 
dream of anything like a storm. There was a fresh sea breeze 
blowing, and when we had weighed anchor, our craft plunged 
forward beautifully, although the sea was very rough. The 
waves, however, were from our stern and helped us along. 

After we had run two or three hours, the wind died down 
and left us at the mercy of the waves and current. We now 
saw what was in store, for a black cloud was coming up from '^ 
the mainland. 

What were we to do? The closest land was several miles 
away. By night the whole heavens were black. The sea 
was still tossing us in every direction. We had been pulling 
at our oars with all our might, but with little success. We 
could now see lightning, and hear the distant thunder, as 
if a mighty battle was being fought ashore. 

The lightning and thunder increased and the night grew 
dark as Egypt. The only sign of civilization was a light 
house of which we could get a glimpse as the craft would 
mount the waves. 

The storm kept getting nearer, until the sea looked like 
a ball of fire, and the thunder was deafening. 

A stiff wmd from the land began to blow, and the rain 
began to fall in torrents. Our only hope was to steer for 
a key that we had passed before the calm caught us. In a 
few minutes we found that our craft would not stand her 
sails, but before we could get them down a gust of wind had 
wrenched the mast out and left us to be blown in what direction 
we knew not. 

Our hearts were in our mouths, and we could hardly 


hear each other speak. The waves were tossing us in every 
direction, and it was all we could do to keep the craft from 
filling with water. 

All at once one of the party cried "Land," which made 
us all look, and when another flash of lightning came we 
saw that we were almost ashore. A large wave carried the 
craft several feet in the air, and landed it on a rock. The 
next thing we knew we were all in the water. With desperate 
struggles we reached the beach, and found ourselves on the 
key we had hoped to reach before the storm caught us. 

After spending a very unpleasant night, we were picked 
up by a large boat, which had anchored behind the key to 
get out of the storm. 

H. W. P., '07. 


" 'The Forest of Life.' What a queer name for this beau- 
tiful place. And you are Age and I am Youth. How funny! 
I am so different from you. Why look! Your haggard 
brow is fringed with gray; your form is stooped; your voice 
broken, and your step less sprightly than mme. And Time 
has caused it all. What a strange old fellow he must be! 
Did he plough those furrows on your face?" 
^tjs "Ah, my child, you do not understand now! You are 
in the twilight of youth; the morning dew has scarcely left 
your cheek, while I^I have passed the noontide of my journey, 
and am now tottering thru' the evening shades of life. Like 
the flower which, with bowed head, turns in the evening 
to face its Cod, man must bend to his. We are marching 
through this Forest — you just beginning your passage, and 
I am about to end mine. Soon I shall reach the end of my 
journey here, but you will continue yours. 

"0, you almost scare me! But why should I become 
frightened in this beautiful place? Everything is so bright 
and sunny in this forest, where the trees even glimmer with 
golden fruit and the rippling, silvery waters dance to the music 


of the melodies of the Forest," chatters Youth, his love-Ht 
eyes beaming brightly. 

"Yes," sighs Old Age, "your path is radiant now, while 
across mine many shadows fall; some places are dark and 
dreary. You are now sipping from the necterean cup. That 
fruit which looks so beautiful often loses its intrinsic bril- 
liancy and turns to chaff in one's grasp. 0, pity, that you 
should ever know one tinge of sorrow! But you, too, must 
enter the "Mansion of Achmg Hearts." What seems to you 
now so beautiful will soon pass like a phantom in the face of 
the real. Just a little further on and the way divides. I 
will soon leave you — leave you to choose for yourself, but 
remember, there is a way whose brilliance excels that of all 
others, and in it are contained the real verities of life." 

Thus Age and Youth, locked arm in arm, wander through 
this mysterious Forest — the one weary and footsore from 
the journey, the other, enraptured by the outward beauties, 
just awakening to realities. 

"Cheer up. Father Age. Siu-ely amid such loveliness 
one could never sorrow. But see! He faints; he falls! Ah, 
I am alone. Hush! Here it is all darkness! Shut out from 
this gloomy spot the sun seems never to cast a single ray. 
But listen! Strains of sweet music reach my ear. What 
enchanted choir! A glimmer of light! I shall see what it 
all means; Fm so tired of this gloom." 

Youth, hurrying curiously on in search of some new mys- 
tery sees a wonderfully brilliant light just ahead, like a city 
afire. As he approaches his gaze is met by the view of three 
handsome buildings, one to the right, and immediately opposite 
this there is another; while a little further on, and directly 
in the centre is still a third. 

"My Youth, here the pathway separates. Here you 
must make your choice. Above those waxen columns of 
joy are written the words, "Beauty and Pleasure." I am 
the god of that palace, and for those who enter, the curtains 
of sorrow are rolled back. It is my province to make all 
supremely happy who come within my threshold; sorrow 


can never dim their eyes. In my palace you will find all 
there is in life. What more could one desire than the com- 
panionship of Beauty and Pleasure through life? The bloom 
of youth never vanishes from the cheek of those who kneel 
at Beauty's shrine, nor gladness from him who clasps the 
hand of Pleasure." 

Youth was about to enter, but as the curtains were brushed 
aside the sight of frantic, fragile forms within met his view. 
Almost sickened by the sight, he scurried across to the palace 
on the left. Here he was met by the stern, grim-faced god 
of Wealth and Power. In a cold, authoritative voice he 
addressed Youth. 

"Those glittering letters of diamonds above the jeweled 
entrance of my palace bespeak for those who enter all that 
Wealth and Power can command. By means of this you 
will have every material pleasure; by bowing to me, you 
may have nations do your bidding; the world will kneel to 
you, and make you its monarch. Riches, strength and pleas- 
ure will crouch at your feet, if you will only follow and wor- 
ship me." ' 

"Ah, no, your majesty! Behind your shimmering doors 
I see your victims; I see the grim, care-worn, visages of your 
subjects; I hear their awful moans; on their brow I see the 
prints of deep sorrow. 

Youth turns sadly away with a feeling of disappoint- 
ment that he has not yet found that which satisfies. But 
as he approaches the central palace, the loveliest of them 
all, his sadness melts into joy. The tall towers seem almost 
to pierce the sky. Above the columns no inscription marks 
its name; everything bespeaks truth and Love. The Goddess 
does not descend from her throne of Purity to seek the en- 
trance of the wandering traveler, but sits smiling on those 
who come within her presence, softening their griefs into 
gladness. Poised above the crowned Goddess of Truth and 


Love is the Angel of Peace; embodied in this castle are real 
Pleasure and Beauty, Wealth and Power. 

Youth enters in and receives a crown of Truth and Love, 
acclaiming, " 'and in it are contained the real verities of life.' " 

J. W. F. '07 

— — 4 


"Extra! Extra!" shouted the newsboy. "All about 
the great Milbury Bank Robbery — copj^ sir?" 

Tom Bafford gave the nickel and soon became absorbed 
in the story. The robbers had smoothly slipped away, leaving 
no clue beyond the empty bank vaults. 

"Hello, Tom," exclaimed a familiar voice. "What's the 

"Eh, Hoop, is that you?" Then in answer to the question, 
"Oh, nothing but the robbery, you know. Rather a slick 
game. But how did you happen to be here?" 

"Gray — you know him; he's Professor of Botany at 
Standiford. Well, he persuaded me to accompany him on 
a botanical expedition somewhere around here among the 
hills. He said he knew of an ideal place for a few days' camping 
out; in short, he presented such a pleasing prospect, I finally 
consented," responded Hoop. 

"Well, I wish I had seen you first. We have had a house 
party this week — Aunt and I — and you would have helped 
in making up the number. Some of them are old acquant- 
ances of yours — Jack Bentley and Sid Harrel. Then, besides, 
Nell and Ellen Tyndall and Mary Gray, Professor Gray's 
cousin. We are taking in the country. I sent them to Clear 
Stream to fish and came into town on a little business. If 
you pitch your camp near us, drop in on us sometime;" and 
Tom getting into the waiting buggy, drove away. 


Tom Balford and Mary Gray had wandered from the 
rest. The party had been on a picnic excursion and had 
driven back in the late afternoon by Anandale, which was 
at one time the wealthiest country seat in the state. The 


broad acres that stretched for miles around were then tilled 
by hundreds of slaves. The house itself, now worn by age, 
was then a palatial mansion. As it now stood, it resembled 
a feudal castle fallen into decay; even yet the impress of 
grandeur stamped its massive expanse; it was magnificent 
in its simplicity. For years it had been uninhabi ed, and the 
sUence of those years had wrapped the lonely mansion m a 
romantic mystery. 

"Now, Mary," said Tom as they entered the spacious 
drawing room, "I want you to see the view from this window. 
Have you ever seen anything to rival this?" 

Before them stretched a grassy lawn sloping down to the 
margin of a lake and of a stream which wound its silvery 
length into the woodland just beyond. In the distance rose 
the massive peak of Moimt Olympus, behmd whose brow 
the sun was just sinking. The parting rays painted the 
surface of the lake a warm rose color, which grew dimmer as 
they gazed. From farther down the valley came the muffled 
sound of falling water that sang in a sparkling treble as it 
dashed against the rocks of the lower bed. 

As she gazed, Mary drew in a soft breath and then in a 
low voice quoted: 

" 'The shadow falls on castle walls, 
And snowy summits old in story, 
The long light breaks across the lake, 
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.' 

"This scene is the proper setting to those words," she 

"Yes," responded Tom. "Sometime, when the others 
are present, I'll teU you the story of the 'Lady of the Lake.' 
It is something of a ghost story." 

Just then the rest of the party came up. 

"You're a nice pair," said Sid. "Much obliged, Tom, 
for the information about this gloomy old house," he ironi- 
cally continued. "We explored every corridor, ran up and 
down every winding staircase, and are at last gratified by 


gazing again on your countenances. What are you two 
mooning over, any way?" 

With an impressive gesture, Tom exclaimed: 

"Stop your jabbering, Sid, and if there is any artist 
soul in you, feast on this scene." 

A low murmer broke from the assembled group. 

"All observe carefully each detail. Do you see that 
white marble shaft standing on the bank of the lake? That 
is the gloomy finale of a story I shall sometime treat you to." 

"But not now, Tom," entreated his aunt, Mrs. Tyndall. 
"We shall scarcely reach home by supper time." 

"Let's stay here and go home by moonlight," proposed 
Jack Bently. "We have enough left from dinner for a lunch, 
and hearing the story here will kind of enhance our interest." 

This appeared to be the unanimous wish, and Mrs. Tyndall 
gracefully acquiesced. 

Luncheon over, Tom reassembled the party in the drawing 
room and said: "Seat yourselves Jap-fashioned." And then 
in a mock-serious tone added: "If ye have tears, prepare 
to shed them now." 

Sid Harrel immediately searched his pockets, and pro- 
ducing several handkerchiefs passed them around. 

"Now, Tom, the story," Mary demanded. 

"Well, imagine j^ourselves back in ante-bellum days. 
This room was then furnished in magnificence. From the 
centre of the ceiling was suspended a golden chandelier; massive 
candelabras stood on the marble mantle and every appointment 
was elegant and costly. 

"On this particular evening the room is thronged with 
guests, for the Master of the mansion has lately brought 
home his bride. She stands by his side just under the chandelier 
and her glittering jewels flash in the light. She seems a picture 
of loveliness and happiness. 

"As she receives her guests a sweet smile lights up her 
face; but as the evening advances a sign of disappointment 
dimly grows in her eyes. Suddenly it lightens as the tall 
soldierly form of a man advances down the room. The hus- 


band receives the guest politely, but the lady extends her 
hand and allows it to rest for a perceptible moment in that 
of the new comer's. He bows again and passes on. 

"Now, the strains of music invite the guests to the dancing 
hall, and the drawing room is almost deserted. The hours 
Hit by; the husband mingles among his guests, but the lady 
for a moment disappears. 

"To go back a Kttle," said Tom. "As we said, the lady 
was very beautiful, so of course, she had many suitors, among 
whom were the master of Anandale and a poor army officer. 
She had favored the officer, but ambition led her to accept 
the richer suitor. At the opening of the story they had been 
married about a month, and the husband has always been 

"Oh, yes," exclaimed Sid. "Now we are getting where 
it is interesting. Enter both the villian and the green-eyed 

"Do be quiet, Sid," Ellen entreated. "Go on, Tom." 

"I've lost the thread of the story now — let me see," he 

"Here you are," again Sid broke in. "The army officer had 
wandered in, the lady had wandered out, and the master 
of Anandale was wandering around." 

"Thanks, old man," Tom said, and takmg the cue con- 
tinued: "Well, the Master of Annandale was mingling with 
his guests. He passed from the drawing room to the con- 
servatory and as he entered his eye fell on a scrap of paper, 
crumpled. Mechanically, he stooped and picked it up, and 
smoothing it out, read these words: 'Meet me by the lake 
at twelve. I must see you once again — and then an eternal 

The jealousy in his heart prompted a true interpretation 
of the case — his wife was to meet his old-time rival. He 
glanced at his watch; the hands were five minutes past twelve. 

"Making his way to the trysting place, he paused when 
almost there, as he saw the leave-taking between the two. 
Deep distress was in the lady's voice as she exclaimed: 'Oh, 


for my freedom again!' The jealous husband, maddened 
by the cry, rushed into their presence, and challenged the 
officer to a duel. They agreed to meet at daybreak. 

"Morning brought with it the death of the officer. The 
husband, indignant with his wife, did not return that day. 
When he came, she was not to be found. Growing alarmed 
he searched for her everywhere. iVs a last resort, the lake 
was dragged and her body found. 

"The husband, miserable at home, travelled, and while 
away died. He requested that he should be buried by his 
wife's side near the lake. 

"There is the shaft that marks their graves. On it is 
no inscription, save this: 

" 'Ralph Morrison and Vivien, his wife.' 

The sequel of the story is this, and is believed by many 
superstitous people: On bright moonlight nights there is 
to be heard a muffled sound of music in the gloomy mansion 
and some, who have been venturesome enough to go, have 
even claimed to see the white-clad figure of a woman rise 
mist-like from around the waters of the lake and float around 
its bank wringing her hands. Sometimes on quiet nights, 
the footsteps of some man wanders along the corridors, as if 
in quest of something. It is thought that it is the master 
searching for the lady." 

Tom finished and thanked his audience for their close 
attention. As he did so a door slowly opened and then closed. 
There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps advancing 
down the hall. The girls grew white with a superstitious fear. 

To add to this was the indistinct murmer of voices. 

"It's my belief," said Tom, "that there is something 
behind all this. Suppose we investigate it, boys?" 

"Not unless you want to drive me wild," exclaimed Nell. 

"No, indeed," begged Mary. "Let's leave this horrid 
place. I can see the jealous husband, the lady and the 
old army officer walking all around." 

"But think what a distinction it will be to solve the 
mystery of the Ghosts of Anandale," Jack ventured. 


"Yes, you girls hug each other down here while we ga 
above," said Sid. 

Mrs. Tyndall asserted herself. "You will never leave 
us down here to be murdered; we go, too." 


"First, boys, let's get some kind of light," said Tom. 

"Here's the very thing," said Sid, and walking over 
to the mantle he picked up a small piece of wax candle. "I 
guess this one did not quite burn out at that grand ball, Tom, 
and was left here for that very purpose." 

"Very probably," responded Tom. 

The light manner in which the boys were considering 
the affair partially reassured the girls, yet they started at 
every sound. An odor of burning paper was wafted to them 
from the end of the long corridor. They accordingly made 
their way in that direction. Arriving there, the boys exploring 
the room at the end of the corridor. There was some paper 
lately burned on the hearth, and more curious still, the end 
of a rope, secured to the window sill. 

"This grows inteserting," said Tom. "It occurs to me 
suddenly that this house, being deserted, may be a rendezvous 
for robbers. It may be the Milbury Bank Robbers are hidden 

"0, gracious, Tom!" exclaimed his aunt. "How can you 
stand there and talk in that uncanny way?" 

"Hush!" he exclaimed, and at the same time blew out 
the light. "I hear voices just down that line of elms. Aunt 
take the girls outside, and we will sift this to the bottom." 

"Never," she stated quietly but emphatically. "Wild 
horses could not pull me out there in the dark. If we are 
to be murdered, we'll die together." 

"Listen," Mary whispered. 

A voice floated up in the stillness to the listeners in the 
north room. 

"Our work is almost done," the voice was saying, "and 
then, haunted house, you will be left again in sohtude. We 
collect our booty tomorrow and slip back into the busy world 


again. This is a capital hiding place, old fellow, isn't it?" 
"The Millbury Bank Robbery," Tom whispered. 
There was a tightening of the rope. The three boys 

stationed themselves in front of the window. A form was 

silhoutted against the moonlight outside, and then caught 

and gagged with Tom's handkerchief inside. The next comer 

was dealt with in the same manner. 

"Now," said Tom triumphantly, "strike a light." 

Th yellow flame gave out a flickering glimmer. The 

company gathered at a respectful distance to survey their 


X X X 

Before them stood Hoop and Professor Gray, at whose 
feet lay the mangled specimens they had been so arduously 

It was with mingled feelings of astonishment, dismay and 
resentment that they regarded the other. Then Mary's rip- 
pling laughter floated out on the night air. Every one joined 
in. Amid general rejoicing the prisoners' hands were loosed. 

"Now tell me. Cousin George," Mary demanded, "what 
you meant by 'booty?' " 

Professor Gray cast one rueful glance at his mangled 

"We were here a short while ago," he said, "and I dis- 
covered we had left these," waving his hand over the treasured 
collection. "We went to find them, and returned to be kid- 

"We thought you were the bank robbers," Sid informed 

Hoop turned and surveyed the company in surprise, 
and then said: "Did you not know that they had been cap- 
tured? I walked into town early this morning and heard 
the news." 

"Yes, while I was preparing things for our lunch," Pro- 
fessor Gray spoke up, "Hoop went to town and brought the 
news back. Now I have a short confession to make. For 
the past ten years I have come to Anandale for a few days quiet 


freedom. I knew the old superstitions people entertained 
toward the place, and selected it for that reason. In fact, 
it may be partly due to my visits here that these reports have 
grown. Several times I have heard people conversing, as 
I did you this evening when I first returned, but these persons 
lacking the courage you young giants possess, left me in un- 
disputed possession, and went on to spread the report of the 
mysterious sounds." 

"You're what I call an iconoclast," exclaimed Sid. 
"Yes," added Mary, "you have shattered my ideal of 
a thoroughly true ghost story." 

"Yet, no one can say that we have not solved the mys- 
tery," said Tom. "We have solved forever the mystery 
of the Ghosts of Anandale." 

X. Y. Z. 


"And there the weary be at rest." 
Whereas, Our Heavenly Father, in His 
infinite goodness and mercy, has seen fit to take 
from our midst our friend and co-laborer, William 
Woodard Bowles, that he might join the ransomed 
of the Lord, 

Resolved, That we, the members of the 
Young Men's Christian Association of Millsaps 
College, by the death of our friend and brother, 
have lost one whose devotion to God never 
faltered; whose life was blameless, and whose 
fidelity was unquestioned. 

Resolved, That such a life, although cut 
off in the bloom of youth, was one striving to 
attain the higher plains of Christian usefulness, 
to make himself a greater blessing to humanity, 
and his influence has been a blessing to those 
with whom he associated. 

Resolved, That we extend our deepest 
sympathy to his loved ones, and commend them 


to the grace and comfort of Almighty God. 

Resolved, That these resolutions be writ- 
ten in the minutes of this Association, published in 
the Collegian, and a copy be sent to the bereaved 

James A. IMcKee, 
Oscar Backstrom, 



Carried His Point. 
'Twas in a western court room; 

The "bad man" did appear 
To wish to speak unto the judge, 

Who would not lend his ear. 
At length he grew quite angry, 

And raised a row. Report 
Remarks that when things cleared away, 
He had the ear of the court. 

— Exchange. 

Cupid's Way. 

Cupid and I a compact made: 

"When yonder maiden passes here 
You shoot her with your bow," I said, 

"That to my pray'rs she'll lend an ear." 
The sly young fox swore he would, 

That she could not his arrow 'scape. 
Then soon in the gentle grass I stood, 

And for her opened the garden gate. 
I trembled when she looked at me. 

With dimpled cheeks, lips cherry red. 
Sir Cupid laughed from out the tree — 

Traitor — he pierced my heart instead. 

— Shearon Bonner in Cumberland Weekly. 



VoL 8. Jackson^ Miss*t December, 1905* No. .2 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College. 

J. A. Baker _ - .Editor-in-Chief 

W. A. Williams Associate Editor 

R. B. Carr - Local Editor 

Frances Park Literary Editor 

E. C. McGiLVRAY Alumni Editor 

L. E. Price Business Manager 

J. C. Neill, J. C. RoussEAUx Assistant Business Managers 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to L. E. Price, 

Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be 

sent to J. A. Baker, Editor-in-Chief. 

Issued the 1st of Each Month During the College Year. 

Subscription, Per Annum, $L00 Two Copies, 11.50 Per Annum 


± ± 

What is education? And what influence 
EDUCATION does it exert in the field of action? Is it 
a knowledge ol classical literature, sciences 
and history; a familiar association with accumulated facts? 
These are questions that confront the college student, and 
to a great extent, must be settled by them individually. Their 
conception of it will be in accordance with their view of Ufe. 

Education is the training of the intellectual and moral 
man. This training begins with perception, or more accu- 
rately, when we can distinguish between two distinct and 
opposite forms. There are different stages in education as 
in any other attainment. In cultivating or improving our 
knowledge we have some end in view. This end is not that 
we might know something about everything, but that we 
know everything about something. If every one, in seeking 
an education, should undertake to learn a little of everything, 


their knowledge would be imperfect and disconnected. It 
Is not only beyond the grasp of a finite mind to master such 
an undertaking, but what would be his reward if he should 
intelligently follow this course? Surely old age, with its 
weaknesses would have overtaken him ere a fair beginning 
had been made. 

Education is not intended to perfect social attainments 
alone, nor to be treasured solely for the power or honor it 
grants to the possessor, but to a great extent it is to be appre- 
ciated as an invaluable possession to the man of business. 
I do not refer to the collegiate training exclusively, for some 
of our greatest commercial magnates have succeeded without 
having attended college. Yet they did not lack education, 
for they were close and attentive observers, and their minds 
were inventive. It was more difficult for these men to attain 
such excellence without a collegiate education, not that such 
advantages makes it easier to be attained, but that you are 
better prepared to undertake and carry through such respon- 

It is a lamentable fact that so many of our young men 
attending college should leave before thej^ graduate. A large 
per cent, leave after finishing the Freshman year, and only 
about 20 per cent, ever graduate. Many of these men think 
they have the cream of the college course when they finish 
the Sophomore year,but there is a fallacy in all such reasoning. 
They are not able to appreciate the advantages offered by 
the higher classes; not that they may not be able representa- 
tives of their classes, but they lack the broader and more 
thorough knowledge of their respective courses which is offered 
in the upper classes. 

You have not completed your education when you leave 
college. You have only laid the foundation, and this founda- 
tion is constructed well or poorly accordingly to the merit of 
your work. If you fail in your obligations as a student, your 
work is defective, and consequently the ground work of your 
education lacks stability. Too many of us do not see the 
need of this earlier training until we have wandered too far 


to redeem entirely our lost opportunities. Should we repent 
our folly when our life's work is opened before us and endeavor 
to build wisely on such a foundation, we would see with morti- 
fication that our structure needed firmness and endurance. 
I do not mean to say that in case you find this to apply to you 
that you should give up all hope of succeeding, but I mean 
that your success is not what it could have been made if you 
had followed strictly in the path of duty. No success is 
permanent unless it is the conscientious work of a worthy 
individual, and this success will conform to your ability as 
a worker, and the faithfulness with which you attend to your 

We cannot well eliminate morals from education, since in 
all highly perfected attainments, morals play an important 
role. If we could conceive of education without a moral 
back ground, would it not decrease its value? Could a highly 
organized society where education is a ruling factor, retain 
its influence if the immoral pervaded its recognized sphere? 
In the world of action you learn more accurately, and with 
a less degree of difficulty, for experience is our greatest instruc- 
tor, and you not only can distinguish between the moral and 
immoral, but your choice is made with a certain end in view. 

We are fortunate in securing a good 
The Lyceum Lyceum course for this year, and especially 
Course. as the greater number will be held in the 

Belhaven Chapel. The pleasure in attending 
these lectures will not be questioned by the student body, 
for aside from the lectures, they will reap a no less agreeable 
benefit. Having heard one lecture we are prepared to say 
with conviction that it was thoroughly enjoyable and enter- 
taining, and we now look forward with pleasure to the succeed- 
ing numbers. It was not only enjoyable in itself as pleasing 
the humorous side of our nature, but it was a diversion from 
the monotonous routine of study and recitation. 

The characteristic features of this course, aside from 
its purpose to entertain, is to cultivate in one a higher apprecia- 


tion of literature, whether it be serious, comic or epic. This 
has its advantages in education as it presents to the mind 
in a most gratifying manner, an important lesson or truth. 

It has been the custom at this institution 
Clark Essay for some years back to offer a medal for excel- 
Medal. lency in composition. Much honor is attached 

to this prize as the winner must show an unusual degree of 
literary skill. No prize offered here is more coveted than 
this, and we look for a fair number of contestants. 

The subject in the Clark Essay Medal contest for the 
present session will be "Sidney Lanier." There are no re- 
strictions as to the manner in which the theme may be treated 
the only rules in the contest being as follows: All essays 
upon the assigned subject must be handed in on the first 
Saturday in May, at which time an impromptu subject will 
be assigned upon which the students are allowed three hours 
in which to complete their essay. Different pseudonyms 
must be used by each contestant in both the prepared and 
the impromptu contest. Both sets of papers will be sent 
to the same committee, and their estimate will be indicated 
by grades. The grades for each man will then be averaged, 
the prepared effort counting sixty per cent, and the impromptu 
forty per cent. And the person having the highest average 
wins the medal. 


± ± 

Bright (observing the moon with the aid of the telescope) — 
"Say, Doctor, what are those promotions on the moon?" 

Dr. W. T. Boiling, pastor of the Central Methodist Church 
of Memphis, conducted the devotional exercises for us last 
week. He also made a very interesting talk. 
Junior and Senior 
Walking down the street, 
Couldn't see the senior 
For the junior's feet. 


Prof. D. H. Bishop, formerly occupant of the Chair of 
Enghsh, now at the head of that department at the University 
spent Tlianksgiving in Jackson. 

The Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity enterttained their student 
friends at an informal smoker Saturday night, December 9. 

"He unconsciously kissed her." — Sophomore story. 

The Freshman election last week resulted as follows: 
J. B. Huddleston, President; Miss Ricketts, Vice President; 
Miss Easterhng, Secretary; Miss Fields, Treasurer; Miss Spann, 
Historian; Lankford, Poet; Cooper, Sport; Waugh, Liar. 

Dr. Murrah returned last week from the North Mississippi 
Conference, at Grenada. While there he succeeded in raising 
about $6,000 of the endowment fund. 

The first class meeting of the year was held by the Junior 
class Tuesday, December 5. The officers elected are as follows: 
J. L. Berry, President; Miss Susie Ridgway, Vice President; 
L. K. Carlton, Secretary; Miss Bessie Huddleston, Poet; 
G. C. Terral, Historian; S. I. Osborne, Treasurer; J. W. Weems, 
Prophet; H. W. Pearce, Sport; A. L. Rogers, Liar. 

Mr. J. S. Purcell, '05, has been over to see us several 
times this month. We don't know whether he likes the boys 
so well, or that there is another attraction. Mr. Purcell 
goes to Vanderbilt after the Christmas holidays. He will 
be accompanied by Messrs. 0. W. and T. M. Bradley. 

Mr. W. W. Bowles of Kosciusko, Miss., died Novemebr 17. 
He had been in college only a few weeks, but had made many 
warm, personal friends and who will miss him very much. 
His remains were carried to Kosciusko for burial. 

Several of the old boys came over Thanksgiving to witness 
the foot-ball game between University and A. &. M. College. 
Among these were S. M. Graham, Superintendent of the Gloster 
school; H, M. Harris, first assistant at Gloster; A. P. Hand and 
W. L. Weems, of Shubuta; J. M. Kennedy, Professor of Math- 


ematics and Latin in Montrose High School; L. D. Reed, 
L. R. O'Brien, Ben Tindall and J. K. Young of University. 

The following new books are among those received in 
the Library this month: "In Great Waters," by T. A. Janvier; 
"The Red Axe," by S. R. Crockett; "Sir Mortimer," by Miss 
Mary Johnston; and "The Light of the Stars," by Hamlin 
Garland. Messrs. Piircell, Hand, Barrier, Ricketts and 
McGee have contributed magazines. The additions up to 
the present time are: "McClures," "The Arena," "The Inde- 
pendent," "Nation and Classical Review." Prof. 0. H. Moore 
has placed in the reading room "La Maitre Phonetigue," 
"Berlinen Illustrate Zietung," and "L'Ecole de Deux Monde." 
Mr. R. A. Tribble has contributed the "Commercial Appeal 
and Rev. W. H. Foote a large number of religious works. 

At a meeting of the Bobashela staff, Mr. W. F. Murrah 
was elected to fill the place of Humorous Editor. The staff 
now consists of the following: L. E. Price, Editor in Chief; 
Jeff Collins, Literary Editor; A. L. Rodgers, Art Editor; 
W. F. Murrah, Humorous Editor; J. A. McKee, Organizations; 
0. Backstrom, Classes and Athletics; J. L. Neill, Business 
Manager; J. L. Berry and J. C. Rousseaux, Assistants. 

The following men have been selected to represent the 
Galloway Literary Soceity on the occasion of its anniversary: 
Anniversarian, L. E. Price; Orator, E. D. Lewis; President, 
J. A. Baker; Vice President, James Blount; Secretary, C. R. 
Nolen; Literary Address, Hon. C. H. Alexander. The society 
also selected as its Commencement debaters the following: 
First debater, J. L. Neill; second debater, C. L. Neill. 
■ f 

After many delays and disappointments Millsaps succeeded 
in meeting the Jackson Athletic Club upon the gridiron at 
the ball park, Dec. 9, and as was the case last year, with the 
odds greatly against them both in weight and experience, 
overwhelmed their opponents by superior team work. Al- 
though witnessed by a small crowd the game, in many respects, 
was much better than that between the University of Missis- 


sipps and the A. & M. College, the work of both teams being 
quicker and snappier, and not marred by frequent delays. 
The result came as a great siu-prise to many, since Jackson, 
profiting by last year's game, had strengthened her team 
materially, and had been training steadily for the past month. 

As was expected both teams proved to be stronger upon 
the offensive than they were on the defensive, Millsaps inter- 
ference moving off with a dash that was almost irresistible. 
Jackson lost because she was unable to stop the end runs by 
McGilvray and Kittrell upon tackle back formation, and 
because of her frequent fumbling — she also came near winning 
on account of Millsaps one fumble. At a conservative esti- 
mate, Millsaps was out-weighed ten to fifteen pounds to the 
man, but notwithstanding this handicap the line not only 
held like the conventional stone wall, but could usually be 
relied upon for a gain of from two to four yards whenever called 
upon. The game was free from any disagreeable feature, 
and no substitutes were used. 

Shields proved to be the star player for the team, and 
succeeded several times in aiding the ends for a run of thirty 
five yards. Meyers at full and Manship at end also put up 
a good game. For Millsaps the best work was done by Cooper, 
McGilvray,Murrah and Kittrell, all four being in the game all 
the time. Mc. proved to be the best ground gainer, and fre- 
quently passed all the back save the fuh; Kittrell hit the line 
like a young battering ram, and several times broke through 
the interference, throwing the runner for a loss. Captain 
Murrah not only saved the game by kicking the goal, but 
his tackle of McKee just as the latter crossed the goal line 
was probably the cause of Meyer's failure to kick the goal; 
he also ran the team well and twice downed Shields when the 
latter had a clear field ahead of him. Millsaps lost the ball 
on fumble once, was held down once, was penalized for off-side 
play once, and was forced to kick once; the tackle back and 
tandem plays were used almost entirely. 

The game in detail was as follows: Captain Murrah 
the toss and chooses to defend the north goal. Meyers kicks 


to Murrah, who advances the ball ten yards before he is downed 
by Manship. Terrell, Kittrell andMcGilvray advance the 
ball fifteen yards in four downs. The ball is fumbled on a 
tandem and falls into the hands of McKee who, aided by ex- 
cellent interference, runs thirty-five yards for a touch-down, 
being tackled by Murrah just as he crosses the line. Meyers 
fails to kick a difficult goal. Score: Jackson 5; Millsaps 0. 

Meyers kicks of! to Kittrell, who returns the ball fifteen 
yards. Jackson loses five yards for off side play. Millsaps 
carries the ball to the centre of the field, but is forced to 
punt. Davis boots the pigskin forty yards and it is Jackson 
ball on her twenty-five yard line. Shields skirts the end for 
thirty-five yards, being downed hy Murrah; after several small 
gains Meyers goes over left tackle for ten yards; Shields adds 
five more and time is called with the ball in Jackson's pos- 
session on her opponent's thirty-yard line. 

Davis kicks to Meyer who is downed by Cooper before 
he has gained three yards. Jackson carries the ball to the 
forty-yard line, fumbles, and Neill falls on the ball. By 
means of short dashes and a couple of seven-yard runs by 
McGilvray, the ball is placed within a half foot of Jackson's 
goal. Two attacks are made upon right tackle without gain, 
but on the third down Kittrell is pushed over the line on a 
tandem on left tackle. Murrah kicks goal. Score: Millsaps 6; 
Jackson 5. 

Meyers kicks to Terrell who fumbles upon the ball outside 
of bounds. It is brought in and Millsaps carries it to Jackson's 
thirty-yard line, where they are held for downs. Shields 
circles the end for twenty-yards. Time is almost up, and the 
play is fast and furious. Jackson fumbles and Shields is 
thrown for a loss of two yards; Meyers is thrown back two 
yards. On the third down the ball is fumbled again, Watson 
falling upon it; but the umpire declared Millsaps off-side 
and the ball goes to Jackson. Meyer kicks thirty-five yards; 


Miirrah returned the ball to the forty-yard line, and time is 

The following was the line-up: 

Neill Centre Stevens 

Jaco — - - - Right guard Snodgrass 

Terrell Right tackle Harris 

Watson, H. D. -....Right end McKee 

Walden .Left guard Hallam 

Adams Left tackle Bums 

Cooper Left end Manship 

McGilvray _ Left half Meyers, C. 

KittreU .....Right half Shields 

Murrah, C ....Quarter... Mayes 

Davis Full back Jolmson 

Substitute — Millsaps: Berry, W. Watson, Kahn, Catching, 
Welch. Jackson: Spengler, Voltz, Hilzim and McCleskey. 

Touchdowns — McKee, KittreU. 
Goals — Murrah. 

Referee — Professor A. A. Kern. 
Umpire — Mr. Jack Thompson. 
Linesmen — Watson, E. L. Meyers. 
Timekeepers — Weems, Smith. 
Fifteen minute halves. 



3 ± 



Being the Memoirs of Francis Antony Strelley, Esq., Citizen 
of Lucca, by Maurice Hewlett. 

With the exception of a brief review of his early hfe, 
Francis Strelley of Upcote, England, begins his reminiscences 
with his arrival in Padua, Italy, where he is to attend a Uni- 
versity. He boards at the home of the selfish and eccentric 
Dr. Porfirio Lafranchi, with whose young and lovely wife 
he falls in love. 

Thus begins his folly. As reparation he starts forth on 
a pilgrimage to the childhood home of Donna Aurelia, there 
to pray her pardon, and, if possible, effect a reconciliation 
between husband and wife. 

It is this journey on foot that makes up the greater part 
of the book. Francis meeting with a vicious and cunning, 
old Capuchin friar, who shadows his life until he kills him; the 
finding of the peasant girl, Virginia Strozzi, whose honor 
he protected and whom he teaches, in return for which she 
not only becomes his servant, but gives him so pure and 
enduring a love that for his sake she is willing to sacrifice 
all that she has or is. 

Among the minor characters who give action and variety 
to this tale are Count Giraldi, the gentlemanly rascal who 
leads Aurelia astray; Marquis Semifonte, the phlegmatic 
scoundrel from whom Virginia is rescued by Francis; and 
Belviso, the noble young actor of a dream-like countenance 
who gives his life for Strelley. 

That Francis Strelley is a fool cannot be denied. The 
mission on which he goes, and the risks run there by him 
might have been avoided; the latter at least lessened. We 
have little patience with his idealistic worship of the illusive 
Aurelia, while beside him, ignored, is the patient Virginia, 


loviiig him with all her passionate heart. It was during his 
brief experiences as actor that he himself said: "If it was my 
business to look a fool, God knows I played better than any." 

Yet because he is a fool, he is none the less a true knight 
and a champion of virtue. Even when his fortunes and 
spirits are at the lowest ebb, he does not deviate a hair's 
breadth from his ideal of honor. His spiritual and high- 
strung nature convince us that his sins were not those of the 
heart. Finally he ceases to walk with his head in the clouds, 
and learns to appreciate and love the girl who was worthy of 
more than he could give or do. 

This was Virginia, piu-e of mind and soul. Of the char- 
acters, Mr. Hewlett has drawn, Virginia is the masterpiece. 
She wins our hearts from her first appearance in the forest, 
a proud and handsome peasant girl, calm and clear-eyed, a 
bundle of fagots on her head. 

Childish, yet womanly; proud yet tender; at times fierce 
at others subtle — all these she is. Between her and the en- 
chanitng little Aurelia there exists from the first a wide gulf. 
When at last Francis Strelley's eyes are opened, and he passes 
over the gulf, then his folly ends. He becomes a true man, 
the mask of the Fool falls and we see a knight in all truth. 

Mr. Hewlett is exceedingly frank in dealing with delicate 
situations. Yet if he offends, we are soon lost in the rapidly 
succeeding scenes, and carried along by the swing of the story 
What charms us in the setting of this Italian tale of the 
eighteenth century is "the great out doors" in both forest 
and city. 

Then we have a feeling of contentment that out of the 
vice and sordidness surrounding them, into their peacefid 
home in Lucca, have risen the pure Virginia and the noble 
Fool Errant. 



± ± 


Of the typical college magazine the exchange department 
is, perhaps, the least attractive. This is not a matter for 
surprise, for of all the departments the exchange is the most 
difficult to make attractive, The editor is at the disadvantage 
of knowing that his department is seldom noticed by the stu- 
dent body, and thus misses whatever inspiration is to be de- 
rived from the knowledge that one's productions will be widely 
read. Unless he is ingenious or has acquired a wide vocab- 
ulary, his reviews must necessarily he of a monotonous same- 
ness. For these reasons, we believe that the exchange de- 
partment should be judged liberally. But making due allow- 
ance for the difficulties with which the exchange editor has 
to contend, our exchange departments are not so good as 
they should be. They betray lack of work. The reviews 
are imperfect. Few exchanges seem to have been read at 
all, or else read to no purpose. Some of the criticisms might 
have been as well expressed if the journals criticised had never 
been opened. Let us, if possible, display some literary taste 
in the expression of our criticisms, but if this is beyond us 
let us at least read our exchanges and be conscientious in what 
we say concerning them. 

There is quite a difference of opinion among us as to the 
method we shall pursue in our criticisms, varying from those 
meekly disposed, who declare that they shall refrain entirely 
from severe criticism and seek out only that which is good 
to those who have entered the arena in plumes and war paint 
believing that they have a great work to do in driving 
from the field of college literature all contributions that do not 
reach a high standard of excellence. There do appear occa- 
sionally, if not frequently, Sophomoric addresses and plotless 
stories that detract from the worth of the magazine rather 
than add to it. These, we believe, should not be permitted 


to pass without comment. But we should refrain from scath- 
ing criticism. The habit of tearing down may be quickly and 
easily acquired, to construct is far more difficult. If a con- 
tribution contains any feature at all worthy of commendation 
it should be commended. The men who most endanger the 
good name of their magazine are not those given to writing 
sophomoric addresses and jingling doggerel, but those who 
refuse to contribute at all. 

The Sentence. 

The Fates — "You are charged with the crime of poverty. 
Are you guilty or not guilty?" 
The poor Man— "Guilty." 
The Fates— "Hard labor for life." —Ex. 

Pope and Miss N. 
'Twas Pope who first the silence broke. 

"Miss N., I'm like a tree, 
Because I have a heart, you know." 
"It's 'cause you're sappy. See?" 
"And you are like a tree also," 
(He her response ignored) — 
'Because you're wooed (Wood) by me." 

"No, no! because I'm bored (board)." 
"Now, Pope, you may be like a tree." 

(He couldn't quite perceive.) 
"Trees leave sometimes and make a bough, 
And you may also bow and leave." 

— The Gamilacad. 

Of the few November exchanges we have received, the 
College Reflector, Castles Heights Herald, and the Baylor 
Literary, the editorial departments are creditable. The editor 
of the College Reflector expresses himself in clear, dignified 
language, and writes upon those subjects which unquestion- 
ably come within his realm, viz., the literary societies, the 
college band and the Lyceum Course. In Castle Heights 


Herald the editorial, "The Personnel of Students," is quite 
an appropriate subject for the beginning of the year, and the 
editor's observations of the personnel of the new students 
are far more pleasing than any sage advice he could give them. 
This editor is also fortunate in the selection and treatment 
of his other subjects. The editor of the Baylor Literary, 
in his editorial on "College Men in Newspaperdom," forcibly 
sets forth the power of the press and the work that the college 
man may do through the press. He connects his subjects 
more definitely with the affairs of college men by suggesting 
that only those be elected to the staff of college publications 
who intend to follow journalism as a life's work. 

Flo was fond of Ebenezer — 

Eb for short, she called her beau; 

Talk of "tides of love" — Great Caesar! 
You should see 'em — Eb and Flo. 

— High School Echo. 

± ± 


Did you ever meet an old Millsaps man whom you had 
never met before? Did you ever have them to give you a 
cordial, hearty old-fashioned hand-shake, and welcome you 
to their homes? When you meet one, you know you have 
met a friend. You feel that you have something in common. 
You have a general interest in each other; if you do not know 
each other, you know something about every one connected 
with the college that your friend knows, and you feel like 
you ought to know your new friend. In fact, you do know 
a whole lot about him. You know that he "Busted" recita- 
tions; you know that he did just what he had to do and 
no more. You know that he blessed out some member of 
the faculty to himself; you both know the nicknames for t\ve 
faculty. The greater part of your conversation is about 
the fun and the play. There is nothing like the good old col 


lege days. This causes me to say that all of college advantages 
are not in books. 

Success is and should be the watch word of Millsaps stu- 
dents. This has been very deeply impressed on the general 
public by our Alumni and students. For it is upon the success 
of our students that the rank of our college in the college world 
is based. Forthis reason the college and its alumni are to a large 
degree inseparable. The college depends on its students to mani- 
fest the kind of work put forth. And the former students look 
to their Alma Mater to hold its own among other institutions. 
This is the only real and permanent policy upon which a col- 
lege can build. Let the work advertise itself through the 
students. In so doing the workman need not be ashamed 
of his labor. So it is the duty of every Millsaps students to 
show in the best way possible what Millsaps is. This the 
Alumni can do best. 

Mr. T. M. Lemly, 1900, gives up a promising law practice 
to do Y. M. C. A. work. We have two reasons for predicting 
great success for Tom in this work. One is that he gave up 
a good law practice, and the other is because he took an active 
part in the Young Men's Christian Association while in college. 

J. H. Penix and C. R. Ridgway, '04, are associated in 
the legal profession in the city of Jackson. They have a 
handsome office on Capitol Street. This promises to be, in 
the course of a very few years, one of the leading law firms 
of the city. This makes the fourth law firm established in 
Jackson who received their training at Millsaps law school. 

Dr. E. H. Galloway, 1900, is rising very rapidly. With 
hardly two years practice he has been made health officer of 
the city of Jackson. Dr. Galloway stood the state examination 
after finishing his second course of lectures. 

We are glad to learn that J. S. Purcell, Jr., '05, is going 
to join the Mississippi Conference. The people of Thomas ville 
Circuit gave good reports of his work this year. "Puss" was 
out to see us last week — and went to prove his real estate — C? 

We were glad to have with us Thanksgiving A. P. Hand and 
W. L. Weems, Jr., '05. "Dock" and"Chunck" are both taking 


a rest this year. "Chunch" Weems has gained thirty pound 
since he graduated in June. Boys, he is a big "Chunck" now. 
Will is in business with his father— I believe he is helping 
the boys — he is too fat. Albert is working in his father's 
drug store. 

S. M. Graham, '05, and E. 0. Whittington, '01, of Gloster, 
Miss., visited the college while in Jackson. Mr. Whittington 
is doing a nice business in lumber and merchandise. Mr. 
Graham is principal of the Gloster Graded School. Sam is 
gaining to the front. 

ifi^j We are always very glad indeed to welcome the Alumni 
back to the campus, and would also be very glad for them 
to keep the editors of these columns posted on matters of 
interest to the Alumni. 

The Jones Printing Company 

415 £♦ Capitol Street* Telephone No* 346* 



Jackson, Mississippi. 

Century Building. Phone No. 325. 


Undersells them All in 

313 W. Capitol St. Jackson, Mississippi. 

Go to 
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314 W. Capitol Street FOR Jackson, Miss. 

Our Motto: Satisfaction Guaranteed or your money back. 


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But to get First-Class Bargains 
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Give us a Look. 

100, 103, 104 W. Capitol Street. Jackson, Miss. 


Vol. 8. 



No. 3. 

Jackson, Miss*, ]c 

maary, J 906. 


To ignore or underestimate the past is a manifest tendency 
of the times in which we Hve. In no other period of the 
"^orld's history has it been deemed so important to be in 
sympathy with existing conditions. Wonderful discoveries 
and startling events so rapidly succeed each other that we are 
in danger of forgetting that the proud place we occupy has 
come to us quite as much by inheritance as by our own ex- 
ertions. Especially does this appear in what is said and writ- 
ten about the New South in contrast with the Old. 

Following the lead of alien or prejudiced writers and speak- 
ers, we are coming to look upon the civilization peculiar to 
the South before the war as that of a rude and undeveloped 
people. Because some of the institutions which formerly 
existed here ended with the civil war, it is unjustly concluded 
that the social and political ideas prevalent at that time were, 
even then, not practical and are now altogether obsolete. 
It cannot be denied that many of the customs which existed 
mider the old regime were so incorporated with the insti- 
tutions of slavery that they could not long survive its passing. 
Yet there is a difference between customs and principles; 
and a closer study of that time will show that the New South, 
wherein it is better than the Old, is not a new and independent 
creation, but a survival and a natural development of the 

In order that we may realize the influence that the Old 
South has had upon the New, it is essential that we fully 
understand what the old conditions in our section were. 


A just comparison of the past with the present would discover 
wherein this influence, silent and yet not less powerful be- 
cause silent, pervades every institution which, in more recent 
times, has promoted the welfare of our Southern people. It 
is not uncommon for writers on ante-bellum social and polit- 
ical conditions to dwell upon the defects of the old system, 
giving to them such prominence as almost to obscure its merits, 
and thus to make it appear that all progress among us in this 
section of our country had its beginning with the abolition 
of slavery, or Lee's surrender at Appomattox. 

To establish this contention they proceed to show the 
vast advance made in industrial conditions during the last 
forty years. Pointing triumphantly to the large increase 
in the cotton crop, to the hundreds of new manufacturing 
enterprises, and the thousands of miles of railway where there 
were none before the war; they claim that none of these 
things would have existed without the utter over-throw 
of the old regime. The fallacy of such reasoning, as regards 
natural development, will appear when we apply it to other 
sections of our country. If we consider the progress during 
the same period of the western, the middle or the New Eng- 
land states, we will discover changes equally as great in every 
department of industry. 

In the state of Massachusetts in 1875, the work done by 
machines was equal to the hand labor of two million men, 
but in the year 1902 the work of machines was found to be 
the equivalent of the labor of fifty millions of men. At the 
close of the Civil war there was no transcontinental railway, 
but now the Rocky Mountain system is threaded by more 
than a dozen of these great arteries of commerce, and time 
from New York to Boston to San Francisco has been reduced 
from months to as many days. 

In 1861 there was scarcely a single labor organization 
in the United States and the factory hand was virtually a 
slave to his employer; now in most of the great manufacturing 
centers the health and comfort and happiness of the employees 
is a peculiar care of the management, and when this is not 


willingly accorded, organized labor has learned how to com- 
pel it. But does any one speak of a New North or New West 
as a thing apart from the old, or claim that these improve- 
ments owe nothing to the character and labor of the men 
of two generations ago? 

i But, admitting all that is claimed for the superiority 
of the present in the way of material prosperity, we must 
not forget that in comparing the state of a people at different 
periods of their history, we must take account of something 
more than dollars and cents. Civilization is not measured 
in bales of cotton and miles of railway. Taking this larger 
view of the subject, we are led to inquire into the intellectual 
culture of our section then and now. There is no respect 
in which more extravagant and unfounded claims are made 
on the part of the new order of things than in the matter 
of education. 

Before considering the subject, however, it is well that 
we should fully understand the condition of the country 
at the time in question, and the character of its people. There 
were three distinct classes in the south at that time. First, 
there was the ruling class, consisting of the aristocratic planters, 
wealthy merchants and professional men. This class, not 
large, assumed, on account of its superior administrative 
ability and its broader and more statesman-like culture, 
almost complete control of affairs of government. The second 
class was composed of the ignorant and shiftless whites who 
owned no slaves, and were so indifferent concerning their 
own advancement that members of their class seldom rose 
to places of importance. The third, and lowest class, was 
composed of slaves, who, being merely the property of I the 
planters, had, of course, no voice in determining matters of 

To meet this situation, and to organize out of these dif- 
ferent and naturally discordant elements, a stable and pro- 
gressive society, required of the dominant class the exercise 
of no ordinary ability. It is clear that when such condi- 
tions existed, the population must have been small in number 


and too far apart for any school system, like that of the present 
day, to have been practicable or useful. In the towns, how- 
ever, where population made it possible, free schools were 
provided, either by the state or through individual effort 
and enterprise. That, even the poorer classes, were not neg- 
lected in this regard, we have the authority of Painter in his 
history of education; that, for those imable to pay the cost 
of tuition a public fund was provided. At the same time, 
private enterprise secured the establishment of numerous 
flourishing secondary schools, while denominational zeal mul- 
tiplied the number of Christian colleges. 

Granting all that is said of the former school system 
as regards to extent and organization, the character of education 
furnished then will bear favorable comparison with that 
which is prevalent now.. On this subject a recent writer, 
who was himself part and parcel of that order, has said: "The 
day of the ancient academy and college as source and inspi- 
ration of an incomparable culture will never be surpassed 
by latter day educational systems, however widely extended 
and beneficent these may be. There was something intensely 
stimulating in the spirit and method of the old classical school; 
a sharp, yet generous, competition and rivalry of scholarship; 
a thoroughness that reached the very foundation of every 
subject traversed; and above and through it all, there was 
the sure development of a sense of honor and pride of schol- 
arship that lifted even the dull student into an ambition 
to succeed. 

But industrial development and individual training is 
not the only factor of a people's civilization. The student 
of the period of which we are speaking, must take account 
of social, political and religious conditions which prevailed. 
There is a disposition, in some quarters, to hold up to generally 
good natured ridicule the business habits of the typical south- 
ern planter who, from his prominent position in society and 
in public affairs, so largely dominated the opinions and de- 
termined the character of the people. This is notably the 
case in that once popular novel, "Colonel Carter, of Carters- 


ville," and others which undertake to present, with the hcense 
of fiction, the landed gentlemen of the olden time. Fallen 
on evil times, he is described as being, where money was con- 
cerned, simple and careless as a child, basing his credit upon 
visionary schemes or the possession of estates covered over 
with mortgages, and rich only in memories of the past. Sim- 
ilar characteristics appear, to some extent, in the stories 
of Page, Harris, Read and others. 

That these pictures are overdrawn, does not admit of 
question. It is true that the typical Southern gentleman 
often carried sentiment into business, and put too large a value 
upon his promise to pay, but we would do well to be sparing 
of criticism when we reflect that in our day, in the mad rush 
of business competition, little attention is often paid to the 
higher sentiments of humanity and of honor, and that to perfect 
a deal or corner on a market, men trample, without scruple, 
upon the interests of others whenever they are found to con- 
flict with their own. 

Admitting that there was sometimes a great deal of ar- 
rogance in the speech and manner of the "Southern Colonels, 
by Courtesy," as some one has called them, yet associated 
with it there was, among all classes of people, as has often 
been said, "a fine sense of honor and a large and cordial hos- 
pitality that, in spite of the rough experiences of 
recent times, still lends its charm to our southern life." 
There was that high sense of honor which caused a man, 
when he had given his word, to keep it faithfully, even though 
it cost him his life — such a sense of honor must have largely 
atoned for the lack of business abihty, and certainly the 
spirit developed was of a higher quality than that which 
prevails in this day of trusts, graft, and business gambling 
of every kind. 

In politics, also, the standard of the old life was high. 
The ancient classics, to the reading of which the ruling classes 
so often devoted their leisure, created in them a power and 
clearness in thought and expression that made them at all 
times interesting talkers and fitted them in public life to be- 


come leaders of men. With the old Greek philosophers, 
they dreamed of the perfect republic, and with the imperial 
spirit of the Roman, they aspired to extend its laws and its 
power to the ends of the earth. 

The Constitution was to them a sacred compact, and 
their devotion to the Union, as they conceived it, was strong 
and steadfast. The politician of the Old South was not wholly 
a dreamer, but proved on occasion to be a far-seeing statesman. 
That this ability was recognized and made use of by the people 
is apparent, when we consider that almost every policy which 
proved of lasting benefit to our country was carried through 
by Southern men, and that out of the seventy-two years 
which elapsed between the close of the Revolution and the 
beginning of the Civil war fifty were passed under presidents 
who came from Southern states. 

The close of the war left our people face to face with a 
tremendous problem. Their farms had been devastated, 
their credit was gone; their slaves set free, and the govern- 
ment of their once proud commonweafth committed to the 
freedman and carpet-bagger to be plundered at their will. 
But out of the ruin and desolation which everywhere con- 
fronted them, the survivors of the war nerved themselves 
to the task of rebuilding their fallen fortunes, and if they 
are remembered for their bravery amid the smoke and din 
of battle, they should much more be remembered for their 
courage in enduring the hardships of defeat. The indomitable 
spirit of freedom which led on the soldiers of the South in time 
of war and enabled them to pass through the fiery trials 
of the Reconstruction, lives today in the hearts of their 

But, whatever may be thought of the old southern life, 
as compared with the new, however extravagant the claims 
made for the former by those who cannot forget, it must 
be admitted that the men and women who faced the tre- 
mendous issues of the Civil war and bore so grandly the bur- 
dens that followed it, were a product of which any civiliza- 
tion might well be proud. 'No other people," says 


a recent writer, "ever entered upon a war in which 
a prudent estimate of its chances, offered so Httle 
hope of success. Without army or navy, with no mihtary 
equipment except the brave hearts and strong hands 
of her citizens, dependent largely on other sections for her 
food supplies, and everywhere confronted by the danger 
of servile insurrection, the Old South practically met the world 
and its resources in a four-years' conflict, which more and 
more, as her part in it is studied, commands the wonder and 
admiration of the world." 

To pay this tribute to the past is not to discount or to 
despair of the future. There is a new, and it is no disloyalty 
to the Old, to say a better South; but it is new only as it has 
reahzed upon the investment of the past, and better only 
as it has shared in the progress which has made the whole 
country better now than it was fifty years ago. 

Therefore, we have good reason to assert that for all 
the essentials of true civilization, a large and liberal view 
of education and its uses, a lofty idea of the public service, 
a keen sense of personal honor, a chivalrous respect for women, 
a jealous guardianship of the purity of the home and the 
fireside, a simple reverence for the Word of God, and a passion- 
ate love of liberty, the New South is, in a peculiar sense, debtor 
to the Old. 


In 1884, for the first time in a generation, a Democratic 
candidate was elected to fill the chief executive chair of the 
United States. Grover Cleveland, the man whom the Nation 
saw fit to honor, had distinguished himself by the ability, 
integrity and success of his administrations as Mayor of 
Buffalo, and Governor of New York. As a lawyer he held 
high rank on account of the simplicity and directness of his 
logic, his power of expression, and his complete mastery 
of his cases. In his public career he was straightforward 
and honest, the difference between his opinions and those 
of some of his party alone giving excuse for criticism. 


Eight years after his first inauguration, he was again 
chosen chief magistrate of the Nation. His first adminis- 
tration was one of almost uninterrupted quiet, as no mo- 
mentous questions disturbed the pubKc; but in sharp con- 
trast is his second, in which the country was agitated by grave 
and important issues which cried for early settlement. The 
manner in which Mr. Cleveland settled some of these has been 
severely criticised. My belief that a love of fairness still 
abides with our people leads me to attempt a discussion of 
several of these events to show how greatly Grover Cleveland 
served his country m his treatment of them. 

Soon after Mr. Cleveland entered upon his second ad- 
ministration, the country was ravaged by a long and distressing 
financial panic. It has been said that this panic was caused 
by Mr. Cleveland's mismanagement of national affairs. Such 
was not the case. This state of affairs was the 
result of an act of Congress, known as the Sherman 
Act, passed in the previous administration, requiring 
the Secretary of the Treasury to purchase a specified 
amount of silver bullion, and to issue United States 
notes in payment, redeemable in either gold or silver coin, 
and these notes were to be legal tender in all debts, public 
or private, except where otherwise stipulated in contract. 
It further stated the government's determination to keep 
gold and silver on a parity, and gave the Secretary of the 
Treasury authority to redeem the notes in gold or silver 
at his discretion. The Act amounted to a declaration for 
the free coinage of silver since the amount purchased was 
the average production of our mines. Knowing this, spec- 
ulators attempted to raise its value, and though they succeeded, 
the rise was spasmodic. In a short time silver had sunk 
to an even lower value than before. The country was flooded 
with silver; capitalists began to doubt the nation's ability 
to fix the value of its fiat. They made haste to exchange 
their silver for gold, thus creating a run upon the treasury, 
which made the issue of bonds necessary. 

Foreign investors followed their lead. The result was 


inevitable; there followed a season of severe financial depression, 
which distressed all classes of our people. 

Mr. Cleveland, and many other prominent men of the na- 
tion, as well as the Democratic National Convention, be- 
lieved that only the repeal of the Act would relieve the strain. 
In accordance with this opinion, the President, in a special 
message to Congress, recommended its repeal. It was re- 
pealed, and with its repeal there arose such a storm of abuse, 
invective, and criticism directed at the President as few 
other of our public men have had to brave. For the rad- 
ical wing of the Democratic party believed that the only way 
in which finance could be again placed on a sound basis was 
to permit the free and unlimited coinage of silver. They 
disregarded the fact that such a course had always been fol- 
lowed by disastrous results when pursued by other nations; 
they ignored the fact that silver can be kept upon a parity 
with gold only when silver is coined in quantities sufficient 
for the ordinary needs of trade; that when silver is floated 
in quantities greater than gold, the gold is placed completely 
at its mercy and ultimately driven from the channels of 
trade; and that when gold is driven from circulation, the nation 
loses its financial standing. 

The decision of the question concerned the individual 
and national welfare. Mr. Cleveland had the foresight to 
see the evils which would result from free coinage, and de 
daring himsel, opposed to it, he placed himself in the ranks 
of the opposition party. Many of his own party denounced 
him as a traitor and an impostor. But the storm of adverse 
feeling did not abash him; he never flinched from what he 
conceived to be his duty to his countrj^ He met the issue 
squarely and with characteristic boldness. 

Now, years after, people can look calmly back and can 
see that Mr. Cleveland took the right position. Men who 
opposed him fiercely have seen their error, and have come 
over to his way of thinking. They see from what a terrible 
disaster Mr. Cleveland's indomitable will, unfliching courage 
and remarkable foresight have saved the country. 


In the campaign of 1896, the leading issue was the free 
coinage of silver. For a time it seemed as if Mr. Bryan, the 
candidate representing the free silver faction, would be our 
next President. But at the crucial moment the common 
sense of the people reasserted itself, as it has ever done when 
a measure involving our national life was to be finally settled. 
Mr. Bryan was defeated and the question of free silver was 
forever settled. In our last presidential election it was not 
even mentioned in the platform of either party. Mr. 
Cleveland has the pleasant reward of knowing that his 
course was the right one; of seeing his views accepted and 
adopted by the mass of our people; and of knowing that he 
has not run the gamut of public disapproval in vain. 

Mr. Cleveland possessed singular power and showed 
great decision of character and courage in taking the initiative 
in great and momentous questions. This is demonstrated 
by the action which he took in settling the Chicago strike, 
and the Venezuelan controversy. 

In 1894, the employees of the Pullman Car Company, 
Chicago, organized a strike, and in their violent efforts to 
prevent the cars from running, they threatened great dam- 
age and destruction of property in no way connected with 
the Pullman works. John P. Atgeld, the Governor of Illi- 
nois, was in sympathy with the strikers, and refused to take 
any action to check their violence. President Cleveland, 
taking upon himself the responsibility of restoring peace and 
good order, sent troops to the scene, and by their presence 
dispersed the strikers. A long and bitter attack was made 
by Governor Atgeld upon the President; he contended that 
the President had no constitutional authority to interfere, and 
that, therefore, his act was illegal. The President contented 
himself with the statement that the strikers were interfering 
with the United States mails and retarding interstate commerce. 
In that case, it was his bounden duty to interfere. His action 
brought out the fact that our government is a strong one, 
and that it will not suffer the petty quarrels of business men 
to interfere with the national interests. 


Another of his official acts which has been both much 
applauded and criticised, was the part he took in the settle- 
ment of the Venezuelan boundary question. 

Great Britian and Venezuela had been disputing over 
the boundary of British Guiana for more than half a century. 
As Venezuela had declared herself willing to submit the matter 
to arbitration for settlement, and had invoked the good offices 
of the United States, our government had, in a disinterested 
way, sought to persuade Great Britian to arbitrate. But 
England was willing to submit only a part of the disputed 
territory to arbitration. In 1895, the affair seemed to be 
approaching a crisis. Mr, Cleveland, therefore, determined 
to make a more strenuous effort to effect a settlement and 
in accordance with this purpose, he sent a message to our 
minister in London to be communicated to the British Gov- 
ernment. The message set forth clearly our position in re- 
gard to the dispute. The chief conclusions reached therein 
were, that the traditional and established policy of our gov 
ernment is opposed to the forcible increase by any European 
power of territorial possessions on this continent; that the 
United States is bound to resist the enlargement of British 
Guiana against the will of Venezuela; that considering the 
disparity in the strength of Great Britian and Venezuela 
the dispute between them can only be settled reasonably by 
friendly and impartial arbitration; and that the resort to ar- 
bitration is not satisfied if one of the powers draws an ar- 
bitrary line through the disputed territory and refuses to sub- 
mit the whole of the disputed claim to arbitration." 

The British government denied the application of the 
Monroe Doctrine "to the state of things in which we live 
at the present day." It was then that Mr. Cleveland sent 
his celebrated message to Congress and thereby plunged 
the whole world into intense excitement. In the course 
of the message he said that he regarded the Monroe Doctrine 
"as important to our peace and safety as a nation," and that 
"it was intended to apply to every stage of our national life, 
and cannot become obselete while the republic endures;" 


that nothing remained but for us to accept the situation and 
deal with it accordingly. He recommended to Congress 
that a commission be appointed to investigate and deter- 
mine the divisorj^ line, and that, should its report be accepted, 
it should be the duty of the United States to uphold its de- 
cision and resist the appropriation of any lands which we 
had decided belonged to Venezuela. Congress acted promptly, 
authorizing the appointment of the commission. If we are 
to judge from the tone taken by English newspapers, it would 
seem that war was imavoidable, but from subsequent events 
it is clear that the English government had no such thoughts. 
Diplomatic negotiations were continued, and in the end all 
of the questions was submitted to arbitration. A treaty to 
that effect was drawn up and ratified by both powers. 

The Monroe Doctrine is respected by all the nations of 
the globe, but if Mr. Cleveland had not asserted its right 
so vigorously, would it occupy the place it now does? 

The men who fight the physical battles of their country 
are great, but greater are those who lead their country safely 
through crises; those who serve their country in other capac- 
ities and whom opposition or public disapproval fails to turn 
■from the path of patriotic duty. We justly honor and revere 
the memories of the heroes who have risked or sacrificed 
their lives for their country, but they are not the only heroes. 
The man, who, by sheer will-power and intellectual strength, 
pilots the nation safely through the rough and storm-tossed 
sea of national life is no less a hero. Both are necessary 
to the life of a nation; the one to protect it from within, the 
other from without. The nation is indebted to both ahke. 

The leader of a people may not always enjoy the same 
measure of glory and admiration that a great warrior does. 
He may even lead his followers safely over a rough and per- 
ilous way, and yet his ability remain unappreciated until 
he is incapable of enjoying the fruits of his renown. Some 
prejudice may blind the people to his worth when he most 
needs their co-operation. But after Time has smoothed 
away the rough edge of their dislike, they can see what a stay 


in time of trouble he has been. Mr. Cleveland has already 
begun to be regarded as one of the great figures of American 
history, and his name will go down with the certainty of fame 
to future generations as one who has served his country, as 
surely as those who have won its great military victories. 

— L. C. 


I was accustomed to spend my evenings, after office hours, 
in the office of the Pinkerton Detective Agency, and chat 
with a friend of mine who was a veteran in the service of these 
well known detectives. His stories of his life as a detective 
were interesting, and I was a good listener; so we became 
the very best of friends. The man to whom I refer was 
Richard A. Mallard, He had a keen, quick eye and was of 
a nervous temperament. He saw and heard everything 
that happened around him. This, I suppose, was from force 
of habit. He was about sixty years of age, and in the very 
best of health, robust and hearty. He no longer engaged 
in the active business of chasing down criminals, but was 
retained as an advisor. 

One afternoon we were discussing the first years of his 
life as a detective. 

"Speaking of stumbling upon a reputation," he said, 
'T remember it was about my fourth year as a detective 
that I was sent down to Louisiana to run down a negro who 
had a very disreputable character, and who was wanted 
on the charge of stealing a very fine and valuable horse. Now, 
running down horse thieves was nothing to me; I had been 
successful in a number of cases like this, but it was there 
that I stumbled upon the case that made my reputation." 

Handing me a cigar and lighting one himself, he con- 

"Well, the horse had been stolen from a man near Baton 
Rouge, and I learned that the negro had crossed the Mis- 
sissippi at that place. I crossed the river and took up his 
trail on the other side. I trailed him almost as far as Alex- 


andria, but he was always about two days ahead of me, still 
riding the horse he had stolen. 

"About thirty miles from Alexandria, I lost the trail, 
and about ten miles further on I turned in at a farm house 
and as night was coming, I asked permission to stay there 
all night, which was granted. They were a very hospitable 
people, and belonged to that class of people that were re- 
fined and somewhat educated — a class that was limited in 
that part of the country at that time. The family consisted 
of four persons — Mr. and Mrs. Willoughby, Miss Maude Wil- 
loughby, a very pretty young lady of about twenty-two 
years of age, and Jack Willioughby, a strappng youth of 
twenty. I noticed that Miss Willoughby seemed a little worried. 
Her father said she was a little ill from a cold she had taken. 
However, Jack was taunting her about the non-appearance 
of her beau,' who ought to have been there a day or two 
before. Then I knew what the trouble with her was. 

"The next morning I was up early taking a walk around 
the place before breakfast. On my return to the house, a 
little negro boy who had gone for the calves, came running 
toward the house, all out of breath and excitedly exclaiming: 

" 'Marse Will'by! Marse Will'by!' 

"Mr. Willoughby hurried out of the house to see what 
was the trouble. 'What's the matter, Zeke?' he called. 

" '0, Marse, Marse! Dead man down yonder,' cried 

" 'Pshaw, Zeke, you've gone crazy,' said Mr. Willoughby. 
'You know there's nobody dead down there.' 

" 'No, I hain't, Marse,' replied Zeke, a little calmed. 

" 'Well, where is he then?' asked Mr. Willoughby. 

" 'He's down de road dar, by de new groun'.' 

"By this time the whole family had come out to hear 
Zeke's brief but startling piece of news. 

" 'I wonder if anything could have happened to George!' 
exclaimed Miss Willoughby, with fear in her voice. 

"Her father told her she was foolish, and told Jack to 
saddle the horses. Directly Jack led three horses around, 


and we went down to the scene of the discovery, leaving the 
women very much upset and excited. Zeke led us about 
a mile down the road, and pointed out a spot about a hundred 
yards from us. Under no circumstances could we induce 
him to go nearer. Sure enough about twenty yards from 
the road we found the dead body of a man in an advanced 
stage of decomposition. Mr. Willoughby and Jack both 
identified the body as that of George Clinton, Miss Willoughby 's 
lover. About ten steps from the body was the dead body 
of a horse. 

"Mr. Willoughby dispatched his son to summon the 
neighbors and the coroner. That was about 7 o'clock. Jack 
rode fast, and had some of the neighbors to help him as the 
people there lived generally four or five miles apart. By 10 
o'clock however, there were enough men gathered to form the 
coroner's jury, which was immediately impaneled; so they set 
to work. They looked around for signs, etc., but found noth- 
ing except an orange, as there had been a heavy rain since 
Clinton had been killed. The dead man had evidently been 
robbed, as his pockets had been turned inside out, and there 
was nothing of value left about him. The body was formally 
ordered removed for burial, and the coroner's jury adjourned 
to meet at Mr. Willoughby 's that afternoon. 

"Before they adjourned, however, I asked permission 
to take the orange and the bullet which had killed Clinton. 
The bullet had gone through the right lung and had 
been stopped by the dead man's coat. Opening his coat, 
I had no trouble in finding the bullet, which I at once recog- 
nized as the one used by the first models of the 38 cal, S. and 
W. revolvers. 

"The evidence brought out at the coroner's jury that 
afternoon revealed the following facts: That Clinton had 
no avowed enemies in the world; that he and a young lawyer 
named Casswick were rivals for the hand of Miss Willoughby; 
that Clinton had been the preferred man; that Casswick 
had had some hot words with Clinton about a month before 
the killing, and had said that he would win out yet; that 


Casswick had a 38 cal. S. and W., and had been seen in that 
neighborhood about the time it was supposed Clinton was 
killed. A pretty strong case, you see, especially as there 
was no one else upon whom to lay the blame. 

''Accordingly, the verdict of the coroner's jury was that 
Clinton had met his death at the hands of Charles Casswick. 
Casswick was immediately arrested and placed in jail to await 
the action of the grand jury. 

"Well, it looked to me that Casswick stood a mighty 
good chance of not being the guilty man. In the first place, 
Casswick would not have robbed Clinton, as the only motive 
he could have had, had he done the work, would have been 
revenge; second, from what I could learn of Casswick's char- 
acter, he was not the man to stoop to such a low deed; third, 
the man who killed Clinton also killed his horse, and did that 
in order that he might escape before it was discovered that 
Clinton was missing. 

"Then I began to reason thus: 'This orange is a large 
fine, sweet one, with skin of a peculiar yellow; grown in only 
one place in the world, on one farm in Central California; 
sold in New Orleans only; not likely to be many in this part 
of the country; Clinton had come from New Orleans and must 
have brought this orange, also others like it; whoever killed 
Clinton took the rest, having accidently dropped this one.' 

"Then I set out. The road for a few miles was without 
one leading into it. But I finally came to where it forked, 
and then I did not know which way to go. While pondering 
which road to take, I noticed that the guide board had several 
holes in it. I was very much gratified to find that the bullet 
I had, just fit the holes in the guide board. I took this road 
as the one most likely the villian had taken. I was confirmed 
in my belief when, about a quarter of a mile further on, I 
discovered some orange peel scattered along the road. On 
examination of the peel I found that it was exactly like that 
on the orange which I carried with me, and was dry, being 
about two daj^s old, so I judged. 

"Three or four miles further on I came upon a white 


man riding the very horse for which I was looking/Good 
evening, my friend,' I said. 'Where did you get that horse?' 

" 'I don't l^now tliat that is any of your d busi- 
ness,' he rephed. 

" 'Well, pard,' I said, 'may be you are right, but that 
horse is stolen property, and I have papers to take him back 
to his owner, and if j^ou don't tell me where you got him, 
I'll have to arrest you for buying stolen property.' 

"He talked freely enough, then and told me that he had 
traded for the horse from a negro who lived about a mile 
back in the woods. We went down there to see how long 
he (the negro) had had the horse. We found that he had 
traded for the horse with a negro who left there in the morn- 
ing of the day before and who had stayed there the previous 
night. The negro whom he described answered the descrip- 
tion that I carried in my pocket. 

"As we were leaving, I noticed some orange peel lying 
about the doorsteps. I picked up a piece and on comparison, 
I found that it exactly resembled the peel of the orange that 
I had. I asked the negro where it came from, and was told 
that the negro who had stayed there had given an orange 
to one of the children. Therefore, I at once connected my 
horse thief with the murderer of George Clinton. 

"I gained the information from the negro that my horse 
thief was making toward a logging camp about thirty miles 
up the country, and about twenty miles from Natchitoches, 
on the Red river. Though it was now dark and my horse, as 
well as I was tired, I set out for the logging camp. After 
traveling until about 4 o'clock the next morning I reached 
the camp, tired and sleepy. I turned my horse loose to graze, 
while I myself stretched out under the spreading branches 
of an oak and went to sleep. When I awoke the sun was 
a good way up. My horse was feeding about a hundred 
yards off, so I caught him and tied him to a bush. Then 
I went up to the camp. All the negroes were gone except 
the cook, who was clearing away the breakfast. I got him 
to give me someting to eat, for I was very hungry. While 


I was eating he took out a gold watch, and remarked that 
it was 8 o'clock. I asked him to let me see the watch. I 
then asked him how much he would take for it, as though 
I wished to buy it. I began to examine the watch, and on 
opening the back, I found engraved in it: To George Clinton 
FROM M. W., Dec. 25, 18—.' 

" 'Where did you get this watch?" I asked. 

" 'I'se been had dat watch long time, boss. Bought 
it in Naw 'leans two years ago,' he answered suspiciously 

" You're a liar,' I replied. 'You got that watch from 
a great big, black negro who wore a brown suit and a slouch 
cap.' And then making a broad guess, 'And he stayed here 
last night.' 

" 'I reckon I did lie 'bout dat, boss. You'se correct. 
But say, how did you know all dat; is you a mind reader?' 
" 'Yes,' I said. 'Now tell me where he was going.' 

" 'Well, boss, he's gotta 'nuncle lives 'bout fifteen miles 
'bove here. He left 'bout a hour ago. Said he was goin' 

"I gave the cook $25.00 for the watch, and set out at 
a pretty good gait in pursuit. I did not expect to overtake 
him before he got to his uncle's, but I wanted to get him as 
soon after he got there as possible. When I arrived there 
a horse was hitched at the front gate. I got down and went 
in, and on my knocking at the door, it was opened by a negro 
woman. As it was opened, I saw the man I wanted inside. 
I promptly threw my revolver upon him and then handcuffed 
him. I found a 38 cal. S. and W. revolver and a small gold 
locket with the picture of Miss Willoughby in it. 

"I took him to Natchitoches and turned him over to 
the sheriff. I stayed there a day and got some much needed 
rest. A deputy sheriff and I carried him back to Alexandria, 
and the same grand jury that indicted Casswick, indicted 
this negro for the murder of George Clinton. At the trial 
it was developed that this negro was seen passing that way 
about the time Clinton was killed. But with this and my 
evidence the jury failed to bring in a speedy verdict. While 


the jury was deliberating, however, the negro broke down 
and confessed that he was the murderer of Chnton. 

"He said that he overtook Chnton and attempted to 
ride with him, but Chnton told him to ride either ahead or 
behind. He dropped behind, and an insane desire possessed 
him to kill Clinton. He then rode up behind him and shot 
him. Then he dragged him, not yet dead, to the place where 
we found him. Then he took the horse out there and cut 
his throat with a knife." 

— L., '07. 


Tallahola swamp was very dense near my home, yet I 
knew every part of it very well, since I had often gone hunting 
in it, or had been sent by my father to feed his hogs that used 
it as a pasture. Our house was in sight of a small creek which 
emptied its water into Tallahola at a mile's distance from 
our house. At the confluence of these two creeks, the swamp 
was unusually dense. The hogs, finding this the best feeding 
ground, were more easily collected here than elsewhere, so 
it was at this place that I always called them to their feed. 

One Saturday afternoon, as a drizzling rain was falling, 
I took my gun, put on my rain coat, saddled my mule, and 
started out to kill a turkey for my Sunday's dinner. It was 
my intention to go to an old field higher up the creek, but 
my father asked me to take some com and feed the hogs 
on my way back. Accordingly, I swung a wallet of corn 
across my mule's back and started in search of game. I 
hitched my mule in the edge of the swamp, and proceeded 
on foot to the place where I thought it would most likely be 
found. The turkeys were there, and by creeping a hundred 
yards, I was able to kill a fine young gobbler. I hastened 
back to my mule with my game, and after tying it firmly 
to my saddle, set out to feed the hogs. 

Before I had gone far, I heard a cry unlike anything I 
had ever heard before. It was far distant, and not thinking 
that I would ever hear it again, and not dreaming that it 


meant danger, I continued on my way with a light heart. 
I reached the confluence of the two creeks, called the hogs, 
poured down the corn, and was sitting with one leg over the 
pommel of my saddle, watching the hogs eat, when I heard 
a rustling in the leaves. Before I could look around, my mule 
gave a leap that caused me to lose my gun, and almost my 
seat in the saddle. A shrill scream pierced the air. My mule 
trembled under me, and clenching the saddle I glanced back, 
and saw that it was a blood-thirsty panther upon my trail. 
He was gainiig at every leap. I put spurs to my mule without 
avail. He had only a few yards more to gain. My gun was 
gone; I had no protection. He was almost at my mule's 
heels. My empty wallet dropped. What a blessing! He 
stopped short, pounced upon it as if it were the choicest prey 
and tore it into shreds. 

By this time I had gained several yards. He screamed 
more fiercely than ever. His leaps seemed longer and quicker 
than before. I pulled off my rain-coat to give him when 
he came up with me again. But before he had gained the 
distance he had lost, I had emerged from the swamp, and 
he dared not approach the house. Though it was the wounded 
game that he was after, I had not thought of my turkey during 
the entire race, not did I think of it until my father rebuked 
me for being so foolish as to risk my life to save my game. 

— C. H. K. 


Vol. 8. Jackson, Miss., Jantjaryt J 906. No. .3 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College. 
J. A. Baker .Editor-in-Chie 

W. A. Williams - Associate Editor 

R. B. Carr Local Editor 

Frances Park Literary Editor 

E. C. McGiLVRAY Alumni Editor 

L. E. Price Business Manager 

J. C. Neill, J. C. RoussEAUX Assistant Business Managers 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to L. E. Price, 

Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be 

sent to J. A. Baker, Editor-in-Chief. 

Issued the 1st of Each Month During the College Year. 

Subscription, Per Annum, $L00 Two Copies, $L50 Per Annum 


± ± 

"Know thy opportunity, and let no mo- 
OPPORTUNITY. tive or thought make you swerve from 
that duty." It has been said, and I think 
truly, too, that opportunity knocks at every man's door. 
Whether we take advantage of it at the time or not is due 
mainly in what respect we may regard it. Should we be 
disposed to think seriously over it, and have determina- 
tion, we would more than likely take a thorough hold of it. 
We often hear men lament their ill luck; tell how for- 
tune's wheel never turns to them. Yet these very people, 
nine out of ten, do nothing to add to their happiness or pros- 
perity. They are the first, however, to give advice, and will 
not fail to tell you how well they profited by the same. It 
is not well to take such advice, but it is well that you think 
seriously over their conditions, and form your own conclus- 
ion as to the cause. They are unfortunate in that they lack 
mental and moral perseverance, and have no stability. 


But especially is this noticeable in large gatherings, where 
they are thrown together for any length of time, and have 
a common cause or end in view. Take, for instance, our 
legislators, who assemble for the express purpose of making 
laws and repealing those that are ineffective or bad. A large 
number or majority of these men are careless or utterly in- 
different to their respective duties, throwing the weight and 
responsibility of legislation on the minority. Yet we do not 
have to go there to find that class, but in looking over any 
student body we find boys careless as to their conduct, and 
entirely without moral and mental understanding, shirking 
their duty to satisfy some baser passion for pleasure or gain, 
and their evil influence may be great. I have known 
of some instances where the loving mother or father 
had worked hard, and denied themselves in order 
to give their sons the advantages of a collegiate training, and 
the boys would squander their money foolishly and spend 
their time in idleness. There is no hope in this world, or the 
world to come, for such gross ingratitude. 

The greatest opportunity which presents itsel, to the 
American people is that of education. Without this accom- 
plishment the average man is forced to rely upon a very lim- 
ited sphere of work for subsistence. At the present time, 
education is offered to all ahke, and is denied to none. The 
poor and the rich, the influential and the non-influential 
mingle together to form one grand unity. There are only 
a few, who by circumstances and providential hindrances, 
are denied this field of training; yet in many cases they are 
richly endowed with other faculties to compensate for their 
lack of this broader training. Yet there are many men, some 
who have come into national prominence by sheer strength 
and force of will power, who discredit educational training. 
The simpler of this class, with conscious pride, tell you that 
education ruins the average boy by instilhng in his mind a 
dissatisfaction with existing conditions. But is that not es- 
sential to this age of progress? Can a highly organized gov- 
ernment, where the doctrine of democracy is taught and prac- 


ticed, progress without change? It is not only a principle 
of Sociology, but also of Psychology, that the young men 
are radical in their views while the older men are more 

When you miss this opportunity to acquire an educa- 
tion, you are unprepared to cope successfully with the world 
in obtaining distinction or reward. But how unfortunate 
are those who pretend to use their opportunities and appear 
to take an education, when in truth, they are only impos- 
itors, sailing under false colors. Have they a right to enjoy 
the rewards of the faithful? They may bluff their way for 
awhile, but sooner or later they will be found out, and great 
will be their fall. 

It is not likely that opportunities come to all in the same 
form or at the same time, but it is true that the opportunity 
of your life will come to you sooner or later. If you are not 
prepared to cope with it, you are the loser, and no exertion 
on your part will ever compensate fully for the loss you have 
sustained. But some may ask, "What is opportunity? and 
this question is not to be despised, for there are many views 
and explanations. To a great extent, you must make your 
own opportunities by hard work and a close and appreciative 
understanding of the nature of the work. 

Success is a development of opportunity, and to attain 
success, you must apply yourself diligently and conscientiously 
to the task set before you. 

What should a college magazine publish? 

This is a question hard for the editor to an- 

Contributions. swer, or one he does not like to answer. He 

knows what he would like to publish, but he 

also knows that it is next to impossible for him 

to secure the coveted articles. It is not that there are not 

good writers on the different subjects we would like to secure, 

but there is a marked tendency for them to put you off by 

saying they will do what they can to help you. But when 

the time comes for you to receive the contributions, they will 


tell you they didn't have time to write, or they couldn't do 
the subject justice. 

If this is the case with other editors, I can heartily sym- 
pathize with them, and am in no position to pose as a critic. 
But I would be glad to see in the magazines more essays, 
poems, articles on current topics, short college stories, and 
a less number of sentimental love stories. If the student 
looked at the matter as they should, understand that they 
are improving their knowledge and efficiency as a student 
and writer, they would be more desirous of obtaining a few 
pages in the magazine. But unfortunately, they do not 
care to exert themselves, and consequently they are not aware 
of their power. The students in History, Sociology and 
Economy, and other sciences are better able to produce a 
true, if not an exhaustive treatise on these subjects. And 
such questions, when justly handled, are of interest to col- 
lege students as well as to the outer world. There is no better 
way of mastering a subject than to write on it. Points that 
seemed to you at first of little moment, may be of great im- 
port, for it is of small things that great things are accom- 


± ± 

Dr. Murrah — Mr. McKee, what is an affirmative propo- 

McKee — (Junior Logic) — One that affirms. 

Rev. Mr. Whitt, of the Mississippi Conference, conducted 
chapel services Jan. 4. 

Dr. J. M. Sullivan attended the meeting of the Southern 
Scientific Association in New Orleans December 30. 

Judge J. A. P. Campbell will address the Galloway Lit- 
erary Society on the occasion of its anniversary. 

The Sophomore class held its election the latter part 
of December. The officers are: J. C. Rousseaux, President; 
J. L. Sumrall, Vice President; H. F. Magee, Treasurer; L. B. 


Robinson, Jr., Secretary; W. F. Murrah, Historian; R. A. 
Tribble, Poet; W. S. Ridgway, Janitor. 

L. Q. C. Williams, of Leaksville, a former student of Mill- 
saps, was married Dec. 28, 1905, to Miss Josie McDonald, 
of Beech Springs. Mr. Williams was a member of the class 
of '05. 

Rev. W. D. Weatherford, of Atlanta, Ga., Traveling Sec- 
retary of the Young Men's Christian Association, addressed 
the student body in he Y. M, C. A. hall on the night of De- 
cember 11. Mr. Weatherford also led the devotional exer- 
cises the following mornmg. 

The subject for the debate, which will take place Com- 
mencement, between representatives of the two literary 
societies is: "Resolved, that the present position of the 
United States as a world power demands a larger navy on our 

The Athletic Association met in Dr. Kern's lecture room 
December 11. The new constitution, drawn by Dr. Kern, 
Mr. McGilvary and Mr. Murrah was read and adopted. Mr, 
O. P. Adams was elected Vice President of the Association. 
Messrs. Collins and Kirkland were appointed to select basket 
ball teams. 

The result of the election of Senior class officers is as fol- 
lows: E. C. McGilvary, President; Miss Park, Vice Pres- 
ident; H. E. Brister, Secretary; J. E. Heidelberg, Treasurer; 
L. E. Price, Historian; J. A. Baker, Prophet; E. G. Mohler, 

The business manager of the Bobashela announces that 
the Annual for the year will contain 160 pages, 8x10 of assorted 
paper. Bound the square way, with black flexible Litho 
Linen leather. The title an Indian head to be stamped in 
white on outside of cover. To be dehvered May 15. Price 
$2.00 per copy. 

On Thursday morning before the Christmas holidays 
the foot-ball squad presented Dr. Kern, the coach, with a 
handsome oak, upholstered office chair. It was quite a sur- 
prise to the student body and faculty, especially to Dr. 


Kern. Professor Walmsley had been asked to make the pre- 
sentation. In a few simple and chosen words he presented 
it to the doctor, and amid much applause, Dr. Kern arose 
and in a most graceful manner, replied to the presentation, 
heartily thanking the team for their kindness, and assuring 
them it was not he but the team that deserved the credit. 

The officers of the Lamar Society for the second term 
have been elected: W. A. Williams, President; J. B. Ricketts, 
Vice President; McGahay, Secretary; J. W. Frost, Critic; 
W. S. Ridgeway, Treasurer; Bowman, Censor. 

Quite a treat was in store for the boys who remained 
in Jackson during the Christmas holidays. On the evening 
of December 25, the co-eds, assisted by Miss Robertson, the 
Librarian, gave a reception in their honor. The pleasures of 
the evening were added to by the sweet music rendered by 
Mrs. Dr. Hutton and Mrs. J. E. Walmsley. Delightful re- 
freshments were served, consisting of fruit, nuts, hot choc- 
olate and cake. 

The Galloway Literary Society has challenged the Lamar 
Society for a public debate, to take place on the night of 
February 17. The question and the judges are to be selected 
by the debaters. The Galloway debaters are E. C. McGilvary 
and R. E. Jackson. The Lamar: J. B. Ricketts and Jeff Col- 
lins. Orator J. C. Rousseaux of the Galloway Society. 

The Mississippi Historical Society convened in Jackson 
Thursday and Friday, December 4 and 5, 1905. Dr. Bev- 
erly W. Bond, of the University, was the guest of Dr. Kern 
Dr. Bond read a very interesting paper before the Society 
on "Monroe's Services in Securing Navigation of the Mississippi." 
Prof. J. E. Walmsley also read a paper upon "The Campaign of 
1844 in Mississippi." 

In addition to magazines in the Reading Room last year, 
the following have been added by the Librarian this year: 
The Classical Reviews, The Clarion Ledger, Current Liter- 
ature, the Independent, Cosmopolitan, Journal of Geology, 
The Classical Journal, Berhner Illustrate Zeitung, and L'Echo 
de deux Monde. Mr. J. B. Ricketts, '05, has presented Mc- 


Clure's Mr. S. M. Graham, '05; The Nation; Dr. J. M. Sulli- 
van, Science; Rev. W. L. Duren, The North American Review. 
The Seniors class, Popular Astronomy; and Professor Walmsley 
has given the Daily Evening News, The National Geographic 
Magazine and the American Historical Review. Besides 
these periodicals contributions have been made by Messrs. 
J. E. Carruth, J. W. McGee, M. S. Pittman, L. F. Barrier, 
A. P. Hand, and J. S. Purcell, of the class of '05 Dr. C. H. 
Kenney, of Oxford, England; and Rev. M. M. Black, of the 
Mississippi Conference. Mr. J. L. Neill, 1906, has com- 
pleted the set of publications of the Mississippi Historical 
Society, and Miss Frances Park, 1906, has completed the 
set of Jane Austin's works. The most noticeable addition 
to the Library is the Everly Shakespeare and the portfolio 
of Shakespeare prints; but new volumes have been added 
in every department of college work. 


■^ -f 


By Harold MacGrath. Dramatized by Grace L. Farniss. 

"The Man on the Box" met with success at the Madison 
Square in New York. Aside from the merits of the book' 
this is at least a proof of its popularity. 

The story is well adapted for the footlights both in plot 
and action. The author even gives us the Dramatic Personae 
as if we were really to see this "little comedy-drama," as it 
is called in the opening pages. 

Time — Within the past ten years. Scene — Washington, 
D. C, and its environs. 

A dialogue forms the greater part of one chapter, and 
others would give the playwright no great amount of revision. 
The hero, Robert Warburton, is an army officer with the fever 
of adventure in his vems. After several months in Europe, 
he returns to W^ashington, and it is on the home-bound ship 
that he meets the principal "Dramatis Personae" — the heroine, 
Miss Betty Annesley, her father Col. Annesley, retired from 


the army, and the viillan, Count Karloff, a Russian diplomat. 

Arriving in the capital city, Warburton receives a cordial 
welcome from his brother, of the War Department, and his, 
sister. That night there is a ball at the British embassey 
but instead of attending he freakishly exchanges places with 
his brother's groom — a "lark" which costs him more than 
the immediate loss of his beard. 

Unluckily (?) he gets the wrong carriage number, and 
being unacquainted with the city, is arrested for fast driving, 
to find that he has been on the box of Miss Annesley's car- 
riage. She will accept no explanation, and under the as- 
sumed name of James Osborne, he is tried in the police court. 
Secretly Miss Annesley pays the fine, and being in need of 
a groom, employs "James." 

Desperately in love, and declaring to his best friend 
(who tells the story in the first person) that he must have 
change and adventure, "The Man on the Box" begins his 

Betty, who recognizes him from the first, puts him to 
numerous tests — making him serve as butler, and humil- 
iates him without mercy when he forgets for the moment 
that he is "only a jehu." 

The climax is reached in the final interview between 
Colonel Annesley and Count Karloff, when the former, first 
entrapped at Monte Carlo, has drawn up a map of the coast 
defenses of the United States to give in exchange for the 
redemption of his estate by the Russian diplomat. It is 
then that we see Betty's true nature in her self-sacrificing 
loyalty to her father as she begs that he allow her to earn 
bread for them both by her violin, rather than compromise 
with the desperate Count. Before any of the tragic group 
could recover their surprise at the entrance of the groom, 
M'Sieu Zhames had picked up the packet of plans and dropped 
it in the fire. Having come into the house the day before 
for a book on veterinary surgery, he accidentally saw the 
plan, and his duty as a former soldier told him to destroy it. 

Through the agency of his friend, Warburton redeemed 


the Annesley estate, and soon became both master of the 
fine stables and fiance of the lady whom he had served. 

We laugh at the idea of Warburton's secret being kept 
so long, when his sister and Miss Annesley are such frequent 
visitors. Yet inconsistences are in a large measure overlooked 
in our sympathy for "the jehu's" trials and humiliations, 
and our admiration of his mettle as expressed by the author's 
quotation on the title page: 

"He either fears his fate too much, 

Or his deserts are small. 
Who dares not not put it to the touch, 
To win or lose it all." 


± _± 


The Nov.-Dec. issue of the Whitworth Clionian comes 
up to its usual standard. The covering, type, grade of paper, 
all the mechanical features reflect credit upon the manage- 
ment. "Sophomores at Home" is an interesting story very 
cleverly told. The plan which Dolly Maynard is made to adopt 
to cool the ardor of St. Clair's attachment for her sister is 
ingenious. In her personation of the illiterate old grand- 
mother a critical reader might, in points where the type of 
the ilhterate, garrulous old woman is perhaps overdrawn, 
detect, beneath the mask, the school girl in imita- 
tion. But the personation, on the whole, is good 
and the story is above the average. "The Relation 
Between the Novel and Politics" is a well written 
article in which the writer discusses the importance 
of the novel as an agent in social and political reforms. 
The discussion is good and convinces one that the poUtical 
novel in America, already important, will become much more 
powerful. While the editorials are well written we regret 
to see a tendency to discuss world events. The great papers 
and magazines of the country are able to treat of the affairs 


of nations so much more intelligently than the college editor 
that we are convinced that the province of the college editor 
is in those things connected with college life. 

The Mississippi College Magazine is rather late in its first 
issue but compensates, to some extent, for its tardiness, in 
both the quality and quantity of its work. "The Contest 
of Rumford and Sandridge" is the most literary production 
of this issue. The style is unique and appears to be that 
of an experienced rather than an amateur writer. In "The 
Elevating Influences of Pure Ideals," the writer hfts one above 
the sordid atmosphere of grosser things into the realm of the 
ideal. He shows in a clear, forcible style that pure ideals 
do have a strong elevating influence, and the speech itself 
is calculated to have a wholesome effect. As a contribution 
to the magazine it is an excellent article; as an oration, how- 
ever, it merits the criticism that in places it approaches a 
sermon more closely than an oration. The editorials are 
well written, in fact all the departments are creditable. The 
Alumni Department especially shows signs of work; it is not 
surpassed by the same department of any of our exchanges. 
The one story the magazine contains is its weakest point. 
The plot is unreasonable, and the writer makes the mistake 
of attempting to handle the love problem — a prodigious 
task for any young writer, and which seems utterly beyond 
the power of this one. Had the writer directed his talents 
towards a different type of story his efforts would probably 
have met with better success. 

The Blue Mountain College Magazine is rather a disappoint- 
ment. It seems that a school with the prestige that Blue Mount- 
ain has ought to give us more than twenty-two pages of reading 
matter, especially when four pages of the twenty-two are 
taken from the Cosmopolitan. The departments are not 
up to the standard, and the articles contributed by the stu- 
dents are not above the average. "Grandmother's Story" 
is fairly well told, and the outcome of grandmother's love 


affair is pleasingly revealed; too many subjects, however, 
are discussed which are unnecessary. The literary society, 
for instance, had no connection with the story. The "Life 
of a College Girl," while an old subject, is well written. While 
there is no original poetry, that which is selected is proof 
of good taste, and the joke department promises to be good. 
The inexperienced editors were doubtless at a great disad- 
vantage in their first issue, and we expect an improvement 
in the next. 

The most striking feature of the Spectator is the college 
spirit which is manifested throughout its pages. The editor 
announces that it is the purpose of the editors to make the 
magazine larger and better, and class yells and society songs 
abound. After reading the announcement of the editor, 
however, the magazine is hardly so good as one would expect. 
Some of the departments are good, some otherwise. The 
local and alumnae editors make a good showing for those 
departments, but the Athletic department might well be im- 
proved and surely the exchange department, with two editors, 
ought to be able to devote more than half a page to the crit- 
icism of our magazines. The magazine would be improved, 
too, if more of the contributed articles treated of live subjects. 
Too many of them resemble class papers. 


The December number of the University of Mississippi 
Magazine, with the possible exception of the Emory Phoenix, 
surpasses any we have received. The departments are well 
gotten up, the editorials are unusually well written, and the 
magazine is well balanced. Especially is this issue to 
be commended for the quality of its verse. "Some 
Rubaiyat of Campus Life" is excellent because of its 
humor, and its imitation of the style of Rubaiyat. "Only 
One," though verse of a different kind, is none the less deserv- 
ing of praise. It is not only rhyme but poetry. The char- 
acter sketches are good and the stories are far above the 


average. "The Mystery Solved" is an admirable imitation 
of Poe, both in style and plot. 

Latin in the study haU 

I pluck you out of my studies; 

I hold you here, hard and tight in my hand; 

Horrid Latin! But if I could understand 
What you are, rules and all, and all in all, 
I should know what joy in a "pass" is. — Ex. 

As a maid so nice. 

With steps precise, 

Tripped o'er the ice. 
She slipped — her care in vain; 

And at her fall. 

With usual gall 

The school-boys call: 
"The first down — two feet to gain." 


"I'll cast my bread upon the waters," said the young wife. 
"Have you no feeling for the poor fish?" chuckled the 
brutal husband. — Ex. 

Professor in Latin — "Caesar si dicat an der cur, egessi 

Student's translation — "Caesar sicked the cat on the 
cur, and I guess he licked him." — Ex. 

"I trust, Miss Brown, that we shall become better ac- 
quainted. May I be permitted to call?" 

"'Why, yes, Mr Green," she replied; "you may come up 
tonight. I won't have anything on." 

He told me afterwards that either he must have mis- 
understood, or she changed her mind later. — Ex. 

Albertson — Eugenia says I'm the apple of her eye. 


Upchurch — Tell Eugenia if she ain't careful such green 
fruit will make her sick. — Gamilacad. 

"I'll try to steal her heart," quoth he, 

"And win her sweetest smile." 
"I'll try to steel my heart," said she, 
"Against love's subtle wiles." 
So both in steel began to deal, 

And as you may opine. 
Love soon declared a dividend 
And started a combine. — Ex. 

A young Freshman bought some Pajamas 
Made from the wool of the Llamas, 

They fit him so bad, 

That it really was sad, 
And the folks all thought they were Mama's. — Ex. 

A Question. 

(an imitation of SWINBURNE.) 

If life were always play time. 
And skies were always blue, 
If flowers were ever springing, 
And birds were ever singing, 
If all the year were May-time, 
I'd spend my life with you. 

We'd roam the distant far lands, 

And sail the sun-lit seas; 
We'd revel in the moonlight, 
And dream away the noon bright. 
We'd wreathe our brows with garlands. 

And drink life to the lees. 

But play lasts not forever; 

Blue skies must change to gray, 
Bright flowers soon must shatter, 


Sweet birds must cease their chatter, 
And youth gone, comes back never. 
No heart is always gay. 

When faded are the roses, 
V When dimmed the eyes of blue. 
When white the golden sprinkles. 
When alabaster wrinkles. 
When soul to soul discloses. 
Will soul to soul be true? 

— The Green and Gold. 

We gratefully acknowledge the receipt of the following 
December magazines: Emory Phoenix, Castle Heights Her- 
ald, The Olive and Blue, The Reveille, Blue Mountain College 
Magazine, The Academy Girl, Mississippi College Magazine, 
The Spectator, Monroe College Monthly, The Randolph- 
Macon Monthly, The Review and Bulletin, The Colleg Re- 
flector, The Tattler, Ouachita Ripples, The Andrew College 
Journal, The High School Banner, The Columbia Collegian, 
The Hillman Lesbidelian, The Whitworth Clionian, Univer- 
sity of Mississippi Magazine. 


± ± 


^f In the first issue of the Collegian, there was an appeal 
to Alumni of Millsaps to send in information as to their where- 
abouts, but it seems that they have forgotten, or that they 
are so busy with their present vocations that they have ig- 
nored the troubles of the Alunrni editor. I think these men 
some of whom have had experience along this line, should 
do all in their power to relieve the embarrassment into which 
the editor is about to enter. So he would appreciate any 
and all information sent to him concerning the Alumni of Mill- 
saps College. 


Among the Alumni who visited the college since the 
last issue are: S. M. Graham, principal of Gloster High 
School. J. E, Carruth, principal of the Leakesville High 
School. Dr. Walter Merritt, of Vanderbilt. M. C. Henry, 
of Tulane; 0. W. and T. M. Bradley and J. S. Purcell, who 
were on their way to enter the Theological department of 

Rev. J. M. Lewis, 1904, decidmg that he had lived in 
this world long enough in single blessedness, has taken unto 
himself a better half. On December 27, he and Miss Rhodes 
were unitd in the holy bonds of matrimony. We extend 
our most hearty congratulations and wish them a happy 
life. They will make Oakridge their home, where he is pastor 
of the first church. 

B. Z. Welch, '04, who is now taking his third year in 
medicine at the Menjphis Medical College, stopped over only a 
short time while en route home to spend the hohdays. From 
what we can learn, "Buzz" is making a fine record. 

C. M. Simpson, '02, has finished his B. D. degree and is 
now taking his M. A. degree at Vanderbilt. We feel sure 
that Claude will make a success, as he was never known to 
fail in anything that he undertook. 

Dr. Walter Merritt will finish his M. D. degree at Van- 
derbilt this year. Walter is an all round man, and we feel 
sure that he will make a fine record in his chosen profession. 

E. B. Allen, '05, and his charming wife, spent Christmas 
holidays in Jackson. Allen is principal of the Auburn High 

A. S. Cameron, '03, will finish his Theological course 
at Vanderbilt this year. 

We make another appeal to the Alumni to aid us in our 
work, and in this way make this department what it should 
be. Do not hesitate to let us know where you are and what 
you are doing. Write immediately as to your whereabouts, 
and rest assured that it will be very much appreciated. 




The Jones Drug Stores 

West Jackson and Up town. 

W. E. VoLTz. Luther Manship, Jr. C. M. Gordon. 


Dealers in Wood and High Grade Domestic Coals. 
'Phone 1039. Jacl^son, Miss. 

F" U R ?< 1 TU t^ K^ 



315 S. state Street. 


Special Prices Made to College Students and Societies. 
CALL TO SEE US. 213 S. State Street 

Phone 380. JACKSON, MISS 


VoL 8. Jackson, Miss., February , 1906. No. 4. 


The sun was sinking low in the west, painting the sky 
a beautiful pink. A partridge called from the edge of a wooded 
hill to its mate in the briar-thicket on the creek bank. A 
horseman was riding rapidly along the old river road between 
Natchez and Vicksburg. His mount was a large sorrel, which, 
though not at all pretty, carried his master easily and swiftly 
along the road. 

The rider himself was tall, with broad shoulders sur- 
mounted by a frank and open face, one look into which con- 
vinced one that his was a strong and admirable character. 
He rode with the easy and natural grace of an accomplished 
horseman, his head now bent forward, apparently lost in 

Ben Morris, for such was his name, had entered the great 
struggle between North and South at the beginning of the con- 
test. He now belonged to General Forrest's little band of 
rushing fighters where he had earned a reputation as a faithful 
and daring soldier. To this reputation he owed his present 
important and dangerous mission — to deliver messages to 
the commander at Vicksburg with the Union lines drawn close 
about the city. 

Misinformed as to the position of a Federal camp, he had 
all but ridden into it before discovered. He escaped capture 
but not pursuit. All afternoon some ten or more Yankees 
had been following hot upon his trail. Every trick to throw 
them off had failed. In his endeavor to shake them off he 


had been able to face again towards Vicksburg. Evening 
found both horse and rider almost exhausted, but the now 
gathering night would make it easier to outwit his foes. 

As he rode towards the willow-lined bank of a creek, he 
saw some one move into a clump just ahead. 

"Halt there! Hands up!" he cried, grasping his rifle. 

"Come out here," he ordered. The growing dusk made 
close observation almost impossible at that distance. 

"Lawd, Marster, I thought shore one ob dem Yanks had 
meh. I sho' did," said the man, an old negro, low and bent, 
whose white beard scantily covered his time-seamed face. 
Evidently he was very glad that it was no "Yank" who hailed 

"Well, Uncle, you don't like them, eh?" Morris asked. 

"Naw, suh, dat I dont. Dey done took a'mos' ebery- 
ting dat we done had," answered the old man. After viewing 
him for a moment, Morris asked, "Uncle, do you know where 
I can put up for the night? I have been riding all day and 
my horse needs rest. Don't j^ou, old fellow?" leaning forward 
to pat his horse as he spoke. 

The slave stood for a moment before speaking, and then 
his manner was that of one speaking to himself rather than 
to another: "I mought, I reckon I mought. I know jis 
what Miss Mary'd say, but I tell yo', Masrter, 'taint lak it uster 
be. Dat it ani't, an' I'se mos' 'shamed ter take anybody up 
dar now, but Nance an' me, we dus de bes' we kin ter take keer 
ob Miss Mary." 

As he ceased speaking the old negro turned off into an 
obscure path which led into the wood and they began to ascend 
a gently sloping hill. They soon passed over the brow of the 
hill and out of the woods. They could see in the distance the 
twinkling of a light. A little while later they came to a spacious 
barn, where Uncle Ned offered to put Morris' horse, but Morris 
said that he would rather tie him out, away from the house. 
His quick eye took in the whole of his surroundings — a large 
silent house, with only one light to be seen; a yard full of un- 
kept shrubbery, surrounded by a dilapidated picket fence; 


here and there a great oak with wide-spread branches; the large 
gloomy barn and behind it a large grove; the deserted quarters 
where no light shone, no song, accompanied by the banjo or 
guitar, swelled on the breeze. 

After hitching his horse, the slave showed Morris into the 
house. He passed through the hall, where hung some bat- 
tered pictures, and in which there were a few pieces of fine 
furniture now battered and bruised by rough usage in freqeunt 
raids of the Federals. Before a door they paused and Uncle 
Ned knocked. At once a cheery voice told him to enter. 
Cap in hand, they went in. 

Before a cozy fire stood a young woman. She seemed 
surprised when she saw behind the negro, a stranger. But 
Uncle Ned said, "Mis Mary, here am one ob ouah boys whut 
wants to stay heah ternight." Mary (as we shall now call her) 
came forward and greeted him with a smile and words of wel- 
come. "I am glad to do anything for one of the boys in gray," 
she told him. After introducing himself and apologizing 
pleasantly for his intrusion, he added, "But since I must stop 
somewhere, I thank the gods for sending me to the goddess." 

They sat and talked for a while and became acquainted. 
Morris gave her a brief history of himself and she told that 
she had a brother fighting for the Southern cause, she had no 
parents but lived here with the two faithful darkies to take 
care of her. She soon found that he had no supper and called 
to Aunt Nancy to fix him something. They whiled the time 
away pleasantly enough till Aunt Nancy announced that 
Morris' supper was ready. He sat down before a humble 
table which, however, needed no apologies, for then the wealth- 
iest could only spread a common table. 

As they sat there eating, a loud knock was heard at the 
front door. They listened intently and heard the clank of 
steel in the yard. Morris held up his hand and whispered, 
"Yankees! Where can I hide? I must not be caught!" 
Before he had finished, Mary was up and beckoning him to 
follow her. She led him to the kitchen stairs and up into a 
small unused bedroom. 


"Be quiet, and I will see if I cannot send them away," 
she told him and was gone. 

Morris began to fortify himself. He rolled the bed up 
against the door and took his stand near the wall opposite, 
a revolver in each hand. As he stood there a sudden thought 
seemed to strike him. He quickly took some papers from his 
inside pockets, looked searchingly about the room, then stepped 
silently to the fireplace and thrust them underneath the small 
heap of ashes. He could hear the loud tramp and the clank 
of spurs below and occasionally a gruff voice. He feared that 
they might not treat his hostess with due respect but he was 
unable to do anything. Duty conflicted with chivalry and was 

Someone began to ascend the stairs, and he could hear 
Uncle Ned's excited voice saying that no one was up there. 
But the steps came nearer. They paused before the door, 
someone tried the knob, and a gruff voice called out, "Hey! 
you in there, do you surrender? You're caught!" Morris 
made no reply. Then, "Here, boys!" and feet came running 
heavily up the stairs, and a number of voices asked, "Where 
is he?" They too tried the door and after failing to unlatch 
it, they rushed at it with the intention of breaking it in. After 
several attempts it began to give. A panel fell clattering to 
the floor. There was now an opening and Morris spoke. 

"Look out, boys," said he, "I will shoot the next man that 
moves toward that door." 

They all, with one consent, rushed forward. Morris' 
revolvers spoke for him this time. One of the foremost men 
reeled and fell. The others rushed against the door and it 
burst open. Again Morris spoke through his weapons, but 
one of the Federals saw him silhouetted against a window, 
and another report echoed through the house. Morris fefl, 
face downward, a great bleeding hole in his breast. The 
soldiers searched him but found nothing. A close search of 
the room revealed nothing. They then went down, bearing 
a dead comrade and their unconscious foe. As they came into 
the kitchen they were met by Mary. She was pale and agitated. 


When she saw them with Morris in their arms, she seemed to 
become very angry. Her blue eyes shot fire and she cried: 

"You are a set of cowards! All of you against one man 
and then you kill him! Shame on you!" 

She told them to leave him there, saying that she wished 
Morris had killed all of them. They placed Morris upon a 
bed and retreated precipitately from the house. A woman's 
wrath abashed them. 

After the soldiers left, Mary sent Uncle Ned for a doctor 
and she and Aunt Nancy staunched the wound and dressed 
it. Before the doctor arrived, Morris regained consciousness. 
He called Mary and asked her if she were loyal to the South 
and when she answered, "Yes," he told her of the hidden papers 
and asked her to send them on, saying that his own horse could 
be ridden. He then sank again into unconsciousness. He 
knew not when or how he was put to bed, nor that the doctor 
came and examined him. All was dark, and strange shapes 
surrounded him; some cold, heavy weight was upon him. 
He could not move, but through it all he heard angels' voices 

When he awoke it was late in the evening; the spring sun 
shone through the window and cast long shadows upon the 
wall. Mary was standing by the door talking earnestly to 
an old genial faced man, whom Morris heard say, "I think he 
is out of danger now, child, but you must take some rest; you 
are worn out. Send Aunt Nancy in here for awhile." And 
they passed out. 

Morris turned his face to the wall and closed his eyes. He 
must have been sick a long time and here these good people 
had been tending him. He felt a deep gratitude for these 
almost unknown friends and resolving to pay the debt, he sank 
into a deep sleep. 

It was several weeks before he could persuade the doctor 
to let him get out of the house. But an active desire to be up 
and doing, a strong constitution and an attentive and pretty 
nurse worked wonders in a short time. He and Mary took 
many strolls about the buddng farm in those early spring days. 


A sweet companionship sprang up between them. That 
which would happen to any two congenial spirits thrown con- 
stantly together, happened to them. 

In May when Morris rode away to join his company he 
carried a picture of Mary both over and in his heart, with a 
promise to come again and claim her after the war. 

X X X X 

Again a horseman rides along the old river road, no longer 
dressed in uniform, no rifle hangs from his saddle; gone are 
the marks of care and fatigue. Both horse and rider seemed 
to be animated by the mere joy of living. 

The man looks with interest about him, doubtless think- 
ing of the different circumstances attending his former ride. 
At the willow-thicket he pauses as if he expected to see that 
same old negro who led him to his life's greatest happiness. 
As he waits a partridge comes out of a hedge and looks about 
her. Apparently concluding the way clear she clucks and goes 
forward ; a number of half grown chicks follow her. The scene 
is beautiful but Morris does not wait longer. He seems to be 
in a state of restless expectancy. He gallops through the long 
stretch of wooded hills and emerges to see a large farm house, 
surrounded by large barns and other buildings. The same 
place! Perhaps a little more weatherbeaten and dilapidated, 
but he would always know it. As he gallops up to the hitching- 
post and dismounts, a young woman comes out upon the porch, 
hurries down the steps, and flings herself into his arms. 

L. C, '07. 


The scene of this story was a small town in Colorado 
called Leadville, noted principally for its mining industries. 
The time, immediately before the declaration of war between 
the United States and Spain. When Bob Kirkpatrick, known 
as "Handsome Bob," first made his appearance in Leadville 
it created quite a stir in every class of society. Among the 
young ladies on account of his personal appearance; among the 


young men, on account of his amiable ways and congenial 
manner, and especially among the mining class on account of 
his knowledge of cards and the adroitness with which he handled 
the dice. 

It was said of "Handsome Bob" that in personal appear- 
ance, he could give Adonis a royal flush and then win out. 
He was very tall, lithe and graceful and had the bearing and 
symmetry of an Apollo. All of this, combined with the fact 
that he was always attired in the most fashionable manner, 
gained for him the name of "Handsome Bob." When it came 
to the drawing and handling of a revolver, he was simply 
wonderful, there was none quicker than he. It was said, 
correctly so, that he had three notches on his gun barrel, each 
one counting for a soul he had despatched to eternity. In 
each case, however, he was provoked into it, or it was in self- 

When Senor Don Jose Valera, one of the wealthiest mine 
owners of Leadville, saw that war was inevitable between 
the United State and Spain, he called his two children, Don 
Juan and Senorita Maria Luisa, who were in college at Madrid, 
to return home immediately. Senor Valera was a native 
Espanol, but he had been naturalized and had married an 
American girl. Furthermore, his business interests, and in 
fact all his earthly ties, were in the United States. 

When "Handsome Bob." first arrived in Leadville he took 
apartments at the Hotel de Leadville and immediately set 
about to get acquainted with the principal ones of the town, 
so that in a few days he was very well known. It was at this 
time that Don Juan and Luise Valera returned to Leadville. 
And very soon after their arrival they made the acquaintance 
of "Handsome Bob." Louise was very agreeably impressed 
with him and their friendship grew warmer, but Don Juan 
disliked him from the first. One cause for this enmity was 
that "Handsome Bob" would very often go with Don Juan's 
sweetheart, Florence. "Handsome Bob," as a matter of fact, 
regarded Florence only as a friend, but in this Don Juan was 
deceived. Then, too, he did not like the way in which "Hand- 


some Bob" was regarded by Louise. The enmity grew more 
and more bitter from day to day, and on several occasions 
would have come to open conflict had it not been for the respect 
"Handsome Bob" bore Louise. 

While Bob was well known and liked by the young ladies 
of the town, he was especially known by the members of his 
fraternal order, "The Knights of the Green Cloth." Not only 
was he well known, but was well liked by all, for he possessed 
that charm of personality that at once wins friends. The 
members of this order would assemble each night in the back 
room of the Red Top Saloon to discuss the matters of interest 
to all and to enjoy a few social games. But on this particular 
occasion they were discussing President McKinley's message 
declaring war against Spain. 

"Handsome Bob" was at the time engaged in a game of 
draw poker with three strangers, greasers from all appearances, 
as they would often converse in Spanish. He watched them 
closely all the time, for he always suspected such characters. 
The first two games were decidedly uninteresting, but in the 
third the excitement was intense. Two of the strangers put 
their |hands on the board, leaving the betting to "Handsome 
Bob" and the remaining stranger. "Handsome Bob" started 
off with a light bet, but the stranger was excited and placed 
all of his money on the table. "Handsome Bob" covered it, 
remarking that he had another hundred. The stranger's 
eyes fairly sparkled as he pulled a handsomely set ring from 
his vest pocket and asked if it was satisfactory to value the 
ring at one hundred. As this was satisfactory they prepared 
to show their hands. The stranger was very excited and 
was continually addressing his two friends in Spanish. "Hand- 
some Bob," who understood some Spanish, overheard him 
use the words, perder, matar, robar — lose, kill, rob. The 
stranger showed his hand first, he held three kings and two 
aces. "Handsome Bob" then showed his hand, — he held a 
royal flush! 

When the stranger and his two friends saw this they made 
a play for their revolvers, but "Handsome Bob" anticipated 


this move and quickly shot out the Hghts. He then seemingly 
began to shoot at random. After the firing had ceased and 
the lamps were relighted some one asked how many were 
wounded, but the significant reply was, " 'Handsome Bob' 
never wounds." It was discovered that the stranger and 
Don Juan had disappeared, while the stranger's two 
friends were found dead. This, of course, was very puz- 
zling to the crowd. 

The next morning all was excitement at the Valera home. 
Don Juan had disappeared and not a trace of him could be 
found. It so happened that "Handsome Bob" met his friend, 
Florence, who began telling him the cause of all the excite- 
ment. "Handsome Bob" listened attentively until she had 
finished; then he told her the secret of Don Juan's disappear- 
ance. He told her all about the game of cards in the rear of 
the Red Top Saloon, and how he had recognized the ring of 
the stranger as the one given to Don Juan by his mother 
just before her death, and how after close scrutiny he had 
recognized the stranger as Don Juan in disguise. Also of the 
threats uttered against him in Spanish. He explained to her 
that it was for the love he bore Louise that he spared Don Juan's 
life and spirited him away, and that he would not have shot 
the two strangers if he had not heard their threats against the 
"dog of an American." "Handsome Bob" then gave the ring 
to Florence, asking her to give it to Louise and explain all to 
her and not to suffer any further uneasiness concerning Don 

When Florence gave the ring to Louise and explained all 
to her she, Louise, cried for very joy. And when Florence 
asked her for her secret opinion of "Handsome Bob" she replied 
that he was all in all to her, and that despite the protests of 
her brother it was agreeable to her for him to visit her. Flo- 
rence at once communicated this to "Handsome Bob" and so 
on the following evening he called on Louise. It did not take 
them long to come to a mutual understanding as Dan Cupid 
was the arbiter. 

They next turned their attention to Don Juan, who had 


again made his appearance, and after talking and explaining 
to him, finally convinced him of the folly of sowing wild oats. 
Don Juan, after he learned the true state of affairs, was truly 
penitent. He explained to them that it was the misunder- 
standing relative to Florence that caused him at first to dis- 
like "Handsome Bob" and that this dislike was intensified 
by the thoughts of Louise ever countenancing the attention 
of a gambler, but since he had found out that instead of being 
a common gambler, with all that the name implies, "Hand- 
some Bob" was a man of sterhng worth; he was now quite 
willing to be friends — perhaps, even brother-in-law. 

BiRT, '08. 


It was a cold winter evening. The day's work had been 
done, and farmer Wells and his family were sitting around 
the hearthstone, tired from the toil of the day. There was 
Charles, the tall, slender youth sitting in the comer with one 
leg crossed over the other, and his foot encased in a big 
brogan shoe, hung before the fire steaming there; for he had 
been on a cow hunt that day and had come home not only 
tired and hungry, but with wet feet. His sister, Sally, sat 
near by doing some of the fancy work that she had learned 
in the city while visiting her cousin there. Mrs. Wells sat 
close to the table whereon was the lamp and she was reading 
from the weekly newspaper. Mr. Wells himself sat in his 
easy chair, with his head thrown back and his feet resting upon 
a small stool. 

Thus they sat until the low roar and crackling of the fire 
produced upon them a sleepy effect. Already Charlie had 
thrown back his head, closed his eyes and opened his mouth. 
From this it can be supposed that he was hunting cows again 
and that too, in his dreams. The paper fell into Mrs. Well's 
lap. She yawned and rubbed her eyes. And Sally, seeing 
that it was nearing bedtime, folded up her work and arose to 


With this drowsy feeling upon them it is no small wonder 
that they failed to hear the thumping of the gate latch. The 
stranger had given up his efforts in that direction and his 
knock now upon the door aroused farmer Wells to his senses, 
and he called out, "Cholly, git up an' go to 'er door, Thar's 
a body a kickin' at it, wus'en a pighted mare." But Charlie 
must not have heard; for he did not move. Whereupon, he 
started to get up himself, but Sally interposed with, "No, pa, 
you jes' set still." and turning to the door, "H'lo, stranger, 
who's you?" 

"It's I," came back the voice, and Sally immediately 
threw open the door; for she knew the voice to be none other 
than that of Uncle Billy. 

At the sound of his brother's voice, farmer Wells arose 
and embraced him. "Well, well, well," exclaimed farmer 
Wells, "to think Bill's come back 'gin! Bill, hit's bin a coon's 
age sence I seed ye! Thar ain't ary nuther man so welcome, 
as you. Well, I declare!" 

William Wells was a writer who had gained considerable 
renown in a distant state. In his success he had not forgotten 
his brother, even though he was an illiterate old farmer. So his 
custom had been to pay him frequent visits, when they would 
talk over the things of their boyhood together on the old 
homestead. The long journey on this occasion had been made 
by rail, and feeling tired on account of having been seated so 
long, he had walked out to the farm from the station which 
was not more than six miles — and as we have seen, he had made 
the walk successfully. 

"Yes, I am heartily glad to see you, dear Tom; I could not 
entirely forget you and the good old days together. Hence, 
I have come again to see you and talk over old times." 

The door had been closed and the family were again seated 
around the fireside. The new comer was warming his feet 
by the old burning log. Charlie was still snoring in the corner, 
and Uncle Billy would not awake him, saying that what he 
was going to tell about his walk from the station, would pretty 
soon awake the whole family. And he proceeded to tell. 


"Tom, I had a novel experience on the way out. For 
strangeness of feehng which it caused me I have never been 
through anything to equal it." 

"Ahem, Sal, you thear hat? I bet me hat Uncle Billy's 
he-ard the ghosts a-mekin' a storm in the old hanted house. 
Eh, Bill?" 

"I suppose you are right, Tom, and I want to tell you 
what happened in the old house on the hill. I am sure that 
any outlandish name would express what I heard and 
felt. I was walking along whistling and thinking about 
the glad surprise that I would give you, It was just 
getting dark and I quickened my pace that I might get on as 
far as possible before it was too dark. Soon I came to a very 
large, old-fashioned house, which from what I have learned, 
you all know as the 'hanted house.' I stood a moment to 
admire its granduer and the majestic appearance that it af- 
forded, silhouetted there against the sky; for it is on a very 
high hill. And I was just thinking about the people who must 
have lived in that old house in the long ago — gentlemen, with 
powdered wig, frock-tailed coat, knee pantaloons, silk stock- 
ings, and ribbon-laced slippers; ladies with their great hoop 
skirts and huge fans — all these I saw in my mind, when suddenly 
there came forth from the old mansion such a thumping 
against the walls and such grating sounds as I have never 
heard before. Outside everything was apparently still; inside, 
it was the same, except that I imagined that there were the 
fluttering of spirits and a confusion stirred up in the air by some 
unseen power. Again, those awful shrieks would come forth, 
which I am not ashamed to say, well nigh made mj'' blood 
run cold. Then would come the thumping and bumping, 
which echoed and re-echoed in the old hall and sounded like 
the roar of distant thunder — a sound which brought into my 
mind the picture of some giant pounding upon some poor 
human being and missing him now and then, thus hitting the 

"What the mind cannot readily understand will induce 
a man to investigate it. The things which are hid, man 


takes a rare delight in discovering. We pass by the things 
that we know and say, '0, pshaw, I learned that yesterday.' 
Hence, my desire to know what was causing these unearthly 
noises that I have mentioned led me to mount the stone stairs 
and go into the half -open door. What I found was a region of 
darkness. I struck a match, but it seemed as if the wing of 
some demon extinguished it. I confess that I was feeling 
very queer, and 0, such a sense of loneliness! So great was 
my emotion that my hand went involuntarily up to my hat 
that I might keep it in its place. I ventured in farther, deter- 
mined to find out what all that I had heard meant. But no 
sooner had I got a dozen steps into the old hall than innumerable 
fists, it seemed, began buffeting me and pouncing upon my 
head. The air was in vast confusion, and I felt the currents 
as they whirled round and round. This was enough to make 
me leave, but I didn't. I never had beheved in ghosts and I 
meant to find out the meaning of these terrible things. So 
I took out some more matches and struck them one by one 
and peered into the darkness. What was it that I saw? A 
house brimming full of leather- winged bats getting ready for 
their roost!" 


— — — ♦ 


In the northern part of Mississippi, in the heart of a 
swamp, is an Indian mound, which a few years ago was very 
large. It has since been almost dug away by relic-seekers, 
but there is a legend of peculiar interest connected with this 
mound which has been handed down since the days of the 

The legend runs as follows. 

Many years before this mound was built, Uncas, a young 
chief, had erected his wigwams on the banks of a small stream 
near the spot where the mound now stands. He was noted 
for his bravery on the war-path and for his skill and cunning 
in the chase. And of all the young chiefs of his tribe, he was 
the most admired by the Indian maidens. 


He loved the daughter of a chief who had been a great 
warrior in his youth, and who now wielded a great influence 
at the council lodge. As soon as Uncas' power and influence 
had been firmly established, he took this Indian maiden to 
his tepee, and by this act incurred the enmity of an old witch 
who lived in a cave not far from his lodge. The witch had 
a daughter whom she had wished to become the wife of Uncas, 
and because he had chosen another, she had become his sworn 

Uncas was very happy with his young wife, and his 
happiness would have been complete when Palila was born, 
had his wife survived the birth of the babe. Uncas was at 
first inconsolable over the death of his wife, but as Palila was 
a child of such rare beauty, he soon centered all his affection 
upon her. 

Palila soon grew into a true child of the forest. She 
found her chief pleasure in ministering to the wants of her 
father (who had begun to grow old and infirm) , and in ramblmg 
through the woods. 

One day when Palila was about eighteen years of age, 
she took her bow and started for a strofl through the forest. 
As she was walking along thus, she heard an angry growl 
close to her, and looking around, she saw an old she-bear 
with two cubs at her side, standing a few yards away. She 
quickly fitted an arrow to her bow, and taking steady aim, 
fired. The arrow, however, fell short of the mark and only 
sMghtly wounded the bear. Palila had given up all hope of 
ever seeing her father again, and she thought of how grieved 
he would be at her death. She had not time to fit another 
arrow to her bow and as she had no knife, she was helpless. 

The bear reared itself on its hind legs in order to close 
with her, and in a few moments it would have been all up with 
the maiden, had there not sounded the twang of an arrow 
from a bow and the bear fell dead at her feet with an arrow 
in its heart. A young brave came running out of a thicket, 


and Palila saw by the color of the feathers in his headgear 
that he was of a hostile tribe of Indians, who lived in a far off 
countr}^ Palila was greatly surprised and could say nothing 
at first, but they grew quite friendly in a Kttle while, for she 
found it not in her heart to be unfriendly to him after he had 
saved her life, even if he were of a hostile tribe. She tried to 
persuade him to go back at once to his wigwam, for she knew 
he would be killed if found in this part of the country, but he 
would not consent. He told her that he had been following 
for many moons a vision clothed in white, which had appeared 
at the door of his wigwam one night and beckoned to him to 
follow. He had seized his bow and little thinking of where it 
would lead him had followed on and on until he came to this 
forest. He had sometimes fitted an arrow to his bow in the 
hopes of shooting this white form, but each time it had van- 
ished. This morning it had vanished completely. 

Just at this moment, Uncas, who was hunting in the forest, 
passing along this way and hearing the sound of voices, stopped 
to see from whence they came. He was astonished to see his 
daughter standing by the side of a brave whom he recognized 
to be of a tribe with which he had long been at enmity. Stead- 
ilv he fitted an arrow to his bow and his hand was as steady 
as in the days of his youth. He aimed full at the breast of the 
Indian brave. The arrow however, glanced on some unseen 
twig, and swerving aside, sank quivering into Palila's breast. 
With a moan she sank to the ground. 

Just at this moment, out stepped the old witch from a 
nearby thicket and uttering a shrill cry of delight, said to 
Uncas, "I have obtained my revenge at last. I have been 
waiting these many years for it and at last it has come." Ut- 
tering these words, she disappeared into the forest. 

Palila was buried in the mound in which her mother had 
been buried, and a few days afterwards Uncas, who died of 
grief, was laid to rest in the mound, and the old witch at last 
triumphed in her revenge. 

K. D. Brabston. 



It was during the fall of '87 that my father sold his little 
farm on Pelee creek in Georgia, and we set out on our journey 
through the country to found a home in the jungles of Louisi- 
ana. We settled in a very remote district on a little farm 
surrounded by a dense swamp. The nearest settlers within 
ten miles of us were an old man with several grown sons and 
a young man who had recently moved into that neighborhood. 

Mother was averse to the move and soon became tired 
of our new home, because she said it resembled the place where 
we had lived several years before, when our house was pillaged 
of several articles of dress and some jewelry, among which 
was my mother's diamond ring. 

We had not been hving there long until we became 
acquainted with the old man who lived just three miles across 
the swamp. Mother then found another reason for not liking 
our new home, for the old man was continually telling of how 
a foot peddler had mysteriously disappeared while on his way 
between the settlements, leaving nothing save a small bundle 
which had been found on the way. To make the story more 
creditable, he had even shown us some of the contents of the 

It was a still clear night in June. The moon was casting 
its long glimmering rays over the narrow landscape between 
our little cottage and the swamp. Everything seemed to be 
wrapped in the deep slumber of the night. The only sounds 
to be beared was the occasional hoot of an owl or the melan- 
choly note of the whippoor-will. Suddenly we were alarmed 
by the clattering of horses' hoofs, and in a moment a "Hello" 
in a deep masculine voice was heard at the gate. Father went 
out and after quieting the howl of the curs, found that the 
alarm was given by one of the old man's sons. He quickly 
told the purpose of his unusual errand. 

The old man had been to the market some twelve miles 
away on that day and on returning that evening had found 
on the roadside traces of blood and a man's hat. The young 



man had come for papa to go over and go with the old man, 
his boys and the other young man whom another of the old 
man's sons had summoned, on a search for the man. Mother 
being unwilling to stay at home with only me, made it neces- 
sary to carry her over to stay with the old man's folks. 

We were soon there. After taking practically every wea- 
pon of an offensive and defensive nature, we set out. When 
we came near the place, the dogs seemed to become alarmed. 
We reached the place where the old man had found the signs, 
and there we found as the old man had reported, the hat and 
traces of blood. The trail led directly toward the swamp. 
We followed it to the edge of the swamp, again and again 
trying to set the dogs on it, but in vain. We knew that it 
must have been something unusual, for papa's dogs seldom 
saw anything that they would not catch, and the old man had 
two large bull dogs that had never been known to fail. 

On entering the swamp we found a handkerchief hanging 
on a briar. A little farther on we found a bloody dirk. We 
looked for tracks, but found none. The blood stains, which 
led straight forward, were sufficiently plain to be traced. 
The old man now took the lead, proving himself to be the hero 
of the crowd. On approaching an unusually thick place, the 
trail turned aside a little until it reached a path leading into 
a thicket. After going fifty or a hundred yards into the thicket, 
we came to the mouth of a cave. Here were tracks in abun- 
dance and of a strange kind, resembling those made by a man, 
except that they showed signs of nails. Signs of blood led 
straight into the cave. 

The old man looked around a little, trimmed his light, 
and said, "Come, boys!" We followed. After going down 
for a few feet the cave broadened out. In fact, the ground 
proved to be hollow for several yards around. We could 
still see traces of blood, and as we went deeper and deeper 
into the cave, every minute expecting to be torn to pieces, we 
suddenly came upon more fragments of clothing and a huge 
puddle of blood. We now found more of the strange tracks, 
the like of which no one of us had ever seen before. 


We were startled by a groan as if some one was in dis- 
tress. We strained our eyes to see. Again the groan was 
heard and following in the direction, we saw in one corner of 
the cave a sight frightful indeed. There in a huge bed sat a 
grim-looking animal somewhat resembling a man, with his 
claws set around the throat of a man. He sat there as we ap- 
proached, not even moving, with his chin reclining on the man's 
head. We were now within four or five feet of him. With 
another groan he fell over, loosing the man. Now, this was 
something that we could not understand. On examining him 
we found that he was dead. Turning him over we found that 
he had several deep wounds which proved to have been made 
with a knife. 

I remembered having seen in my geography the picture 
of an animal that resembled this one very much. I suggested 
it to papa and the idea struck him at once that it was a gorilla. 
Then the old man remembered having heard of a gorilla es- 
caping his master many years before we had moved into that 
country. Thus the mystery was explained. 

On the person of the man we found papers which seemed 
to prove him a detective who was in search of a burglar. 
Among the old rags and clothes of the bed we found a pocket- 
book and a diamond ring. 

Jeff Collins. 



Evelyn Hunt was a dignified young lady. She possessed 
a lover and, incidentally, a little brother named Pete. Like 
the proverbial small boy he often proved a difficult problem. 
No one knew what to expect of Pete. He had the deplorable 
habit of revealing family intrigues at the most critical periods, 
and kept his sister on the verge of nervous collapse. 

In the story now to be related, Pete eff"aced all memories 
of former achievements in one glorious record-breaking tri- 

He developed a fondness for Evelyn's friend, Charles 


Morris. Like his elders, he was expectantly awaiting the 
day that was to give him this jolly young man for a brother. 
In Pete's imagination he beheld a future when pocket money 
would be no consideration, if the dimes that now found their 
way into his possession were any argument to reason from. 
Of course, as a real brother he would be far more generous. 
It is then no surprise that Pete should be deeply concerned 
when his sharp eyes discovered that the course of true love 
was not running smooth. 

How he came by this knowledge, Pete should have blushed 
to tell — perhaps he would have had he told; but he never 
did. The important part is, he did discover it, and it caused 
his anxious spirit much unrest. If only he could hit upon 
some plan for smoothing out the tangled knot of contention 
and send the couple of his constant thoughts safe through 
the illuring portal of matrimony ! Perhaps he would not 
have expressed his desire in just such terms; he would 
probably have said: "Charles is a 'brick,' and I'd like 
jolly well to have him for a brother." If he had given 
a thought to his sister, it was merely that she was the neces- 
sary means for producing the desired result. As yet, 
girls possessed no attraction for Pete. They were to be 
tolerated, but not received on equal terms with his sex. 
When no other sport was attainable he enjoyed teasing them, 
and was regarded by them as an especially obnoxious little 
boy. He knew this, but he passed the knowledge by with 
his calm indifference. 

x x X x 

Pete was in an angelic mood all the afternoon. He 
went to Evelyn's room and confided some of his troubles, 
for Pete was never free from them. In his repentant mood 
he sought sympathy from Evelyn, who was remarkably for- 
bearing with the young scape-grace. But these moods rarely 
lasted long; as on this occasion. His keen ej^e detected on 
Evelyn's desk a daintily addressed envelope, which, on closer 
investigation, he found to bear the name of Charles Morris. 
At a favorable moment he adroitlj^ conveyed this to his pocket. 


Later he would return the letter and receive as ransom any- 
thing his fancy might dictate. 

During the remaining moments of his visit his conscience 
must have smote him. The maid appearing with a card for 
Evelyn furnished honorable means for retreat with his stolen 
property. While Evelyn prepared to meet her caller, a bright 
color flushed her cheek. After all she need not have written 
the repentant note to Charles. He had come of his own accord, 
repentant, of course. At first she would be graciously polite, 
and then generously forgiving. 

In the meanwhile Pete had gone below to investigate, 
A hasty survey of the hall and parlor from the upper landing 
disclosed the fact that the caller was a gentleman; Pete saw 
the hat on the rack and heard a restless sound of footsteps. 
Without doubt the caller was impatient. This fact lured 
Pete to a closer range. He slipped down the stair and then 
quietly behind the portiers drawing its folds about him. 

Soon Evelyn came liesurely down the stairway and entered 
the parlor. There was no way for retreat without being seen, 
so making the most of his situation, Pete lent a half -unwilling 
ear to the conversation in the next room. 

Pete gathered from this conversation these facts: Mr. 
Charles Morris had come, as had Evelyn, to grant but not to 
sue for pardon; both Evelyn and Charles had lost their tempers, 
and Evelyn had returned the ring. 

When the certainty of the disagreeable fact thrust itself 
upon him, Pete at first accepted the news with resignation. 
Then as he heard Charles make his adieus in a cold, offended 
tone, Pete resolved to lend a hand in this crisis. He cast 
about for some means for averting the catastrophe of a broken 
engagement. Suddenly he remembered the letter in his pocket. 
It was addressed to Charles; then it belonged to him. It was 
unsealed. For a moment Pete debated the point of honor, 
then decided that all was fair in love and war and unblushingly 
read the note. It sent a beam of light across his little freckled 
face, and a sparkle of merriment into his eyes. If Evelyn 
thought so much of the chap, he should have the note. 


Pete started out on his mission. In the distance through 
the interlacing branches he caught occasional glimpses of a 
broad pair of shoulders. How Charles did walk to be sure, 
and try as he might, Pete did not overtake him until he had 
almost passed through the grove that divided Charles' home 
from his. 

"Hold on," he shouted. "I have been chasing you till 
I am 'blowed.' " Charles stopped, wondering, while Pete 
regained his breath. 

"Here's a note," he quoth. "Evelyn wrote it a while 
ago, but you must promise to give it back to me, or I won't 
give it to you. Promise?" 

"It's a strange request, old man, but as those are the terms, 
I agree," 

Pete's grimy hand gave the note. 

One hasty reading of the words produced a remarkable 
effect. Charles looked around as if doubting, and then seeing 
the repentant words, convicting belief settled upon him. 

"You say you want my note?" Charles inquired. 

"You promised," Pete quoth, uncompromisingly. 

"Then, here old fellow. But say, you'll not show it to 
any one, and you will return it some day? I am willing for you 
to have it under those conditions, but not otherwise." 

"Who said I'd show it?" and closing his hand upon the 
coveted letter, he started homeward. He would take the 
letter straight back and put it where he found it. Charles 
accompanied him, but each pursued an uninterrupted course 
of thought. 

It was very forgiving of Evelyn to write such a note after 
his dictatorial demands that she should apologize. But it 
was strange; she had such spirit! They were nearing the house; 
in a garden chair on the lawn they saw Evelyn. She was 
reading and did not hear them approaching. Pete slipped 
on ahead and disappeared suddenly and mysteriously. A 
slight stirring led Evelyn to glance up. Her astonished 
gaze fell on Charles. He was looking so happy. How very 
strange that he should return. 


"My dear Evelyn," he began; "I never before knew 
what an angel you are, and what an undeservmg wretch I am." 

Then upon his humble speech, and Evelyn's wondering 
amazement, a clear boyish voice broke in from a neighboring 
branch overhead: 
"My dear Charles: 

"Of course you ought to know I meant nothing by allow- 
ing Hugh Campbell to put my picture in his watch; but since 
you do not, I guess I must humor you and tell you so. What's 
a picture, anyway, when the original is your own Evelyn?" 

Pete's voice quavered and trilled. The situation was 
dramatic. Evelyn sank helplessly in to her chair, and gasped 
out: "0, Pete, how could you?" 

"But you wrote it, Evelyn?" Charles inquired puzzlingly. 

"Yes," she faltered. Then her old spirit asserted itself. 
"I never meant to send it after your visit." 

"You will forgive me, though?" he begged. 

"0, yes, if for nothing but that lovely compliment you 
paid me just now." 

"Come down, you blessed Pete, and be forgiven." 

"But how did you plan it, you horrid boy?" Evelyn de- 
manded as he descended in triumph. 

"It just planned itself," he condescended to explain. 

"Hand over that note if you are through with it, Pete." 

He did so. A bright silver dollar was smuggled into 
his hand. 

Pete felt that his reward was sufficient, and that his 
vision of the future was justified. As Pete passed from their 
hearing, Evelyn remarked: "Pete is a trial sent to keep 
me humble." 

And Charles replied: "He is an interesting study, and 
I find myself infinitely happier by the world holding that 
blessed Pete." 



Whereas, God in His wisdom has seen fit 
to take unto himself the father of our class- 
mate; therefore, be it 

Resolved, 1. That we, the Senior class of 
Millsaps, extend our sincerest sympathy to our 
fellow student and co-worker in this, his hour 
of affliction. 

Resolved, 2. That a copy of these resolutions 
be sent to the bereaved family, and that a copy 
be published in the Collegian. 

L. E. Price, 

F. V. Park, 

E. G. MoHLER, Jr., 



Vol. 8. Jackson^ Miss., February, 1906. No. 4. 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College. 

J. A. Baker _ Editor-in-Chie 

W. A. Williams Associate Editor 

R. B. Carr Local Editor 

Frances Park _ Literary Editor 

E. C. McGiLVRAY - Alumni Editor 

L. E. Price Business Manager 

J. C. Neill, J. C. RoussEAUx Assistant Business Managers 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to L. E. Price, 

Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be 

sent to J. A. Baker, Editor-in-Chief. 

Issued the 1st of Each Month During the College Year. 

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


At no time has there been a greater demand 
The Demand for college men who have a highly developed 
for moral character as well as mental proficiency. 

College Men. This demand is not confined to any one pro- 
fession or trade, but in all business and other 
occupations this requirement must be met. The man seeking 
a position has not only to give satisfactory credentials as to 
his fitness, but has also to give proof of moral standing. The 
demand for men increases with the competency of the individual 
and his qualifications. 

Such being the case, it is a practical question for us to 
find the means of fitting ourselves for filling such positions 
as we may desire, and to do this with the best results and ad- 
vantage to ourselves, we must cultivate at the same time both 
our moral and intellectual faculties. It is hard to conceive 
of the one as distinct from the other for both are natural and 


essential constituents of the progressive man. Should we 
desire to cultivate one at the expense of the other, we would 
find that we were unprepared to cope successfully with the 
conditions and demands of life. The business or professional 
man no longer takes in his employ an individual without good 
references as to ability to fill the position with credit to him- 
self and employer. With the addition of each year, stricter 
and more thorough is the test you must submit to in order to 
secure good positions; and when secured, the real test has just 
begun, for you must now show your abiUty in executing the 
orders of your superiors, or in giving directions to those beneath 
you in position. Should you show aptitude and readiness in 
grasping the details and nature of your work, together with a 
high degree of competency in making plans, then advance- 
ment and success will reward you for your efforts. 

We can find no objections to this system, since it tends 
to cultivate and encourage honesty and honor among the 
employes and employers and to place the business world in 
general upon a higher plane of usefulness and proficiency. At 
this day, while graft and corruption pervades the most sacred 
sphere of business relations, if it were not for a counteracting 
influence, the business world would be thrown into a state of 
chaos. But with the American people, who have such a high 
degree of vitality and stored-up energy, and the majority of 
whom, on all momentous questions decide rightly, it would be 
hard to conceive of such a disorganized state of affairs. And 
especially is this true at the present day when the demand is 
for better men. The business world is continually weeding 
out the morally weak and supplanting them with stronger 

With such a progressive people as we are, with advanced 
ideas as to government in its broadest sense, the ignorant or 
unpractical can have no place, but are left to themselves to 
work out their own ends with but little hope of final success. 
This applies in a general sense to the college man, but his 
prospects are far greater in proportion to the uneducated. 
All college men are not practical, nor are they all intellectually 


moral, but their opportunities are grand and their ideals should 
be correspondingly high. With the advent and increase of 
denominational colleges and schools with Christian environ- 
ment and influence, the per-cent. of morally educated men 
has increased. The weakling is not to be feared, for his in- 
fluence is infinitesimal; but it is the cunning man whose views 
are not in accordance with the spirit of right, and when such 
men turn their energies with hostile intent against the integ- 
rity of business obligation, a shock or disturbance is felt in 
that circle. No less true is it, that the college man should he 
be educated or instructed in vice or cunning, could exert a 
great influence for the worse on the average college boy, for 
the average boy in college is at that age where he is easily 
influenced for better or worse; but happily these men are 
in the minority and their proportion is on the decrease. 

The increase of this higher class of college graduates 
and the positions to which they have risen have worked a 
wonderful change in the social activities of the country, and 
have caused men to think seriously on these subjects. Their 
thoughts soon matured, and we now see the results — an in- 
creased demand for better men, men of integrity and ability. 
The railroads refuse to employ drinking men, because drink 
dulls the mind and drunkenness robs one of responsibility. 
If we take for granted that these great corporations have no 
soul, but refuse to employ men who have bad habits because 
these habits make them less efficient in both mental and physi- 
cal work, they are not to be criticised, but commended for the 
steps they have taken. 

A man who prepares for his life work, knowing what is 
required of him before he is qualified to undertake its respon- 
sibilities, and fails to meet and master these requirements, 
works under great disadvantages. The system of education 
has changed in some respects from what it was, but the same 
principles and truths must be mastered. Life is too short 
and time too precious to spend too much time on subjects 
that will aid you but little or not at all in the great conflict 
of life. The boy when he enters college should specialize upon 


some one subject and give this subject his greatest attention, 
but in doing this he must not lose sight of his other studies. 
Let him be thorough with this subject and have an inteUigent 
understanding with others. But in choosing the special sub- 
ject let your choice be in unison with your profession. The 
man that devotes his entire time and energy to mastering a 
subject becomes narrow minded, as he lets his mind dwell 
only on it without thinking on other and different matters, 
and should he fail to make a special study of some one thing, 
he is liable to fall into that class of people who are not able to 
think intelligently upon any thing, but have a confused idea 
.of many things. 

On Feb. 7th the Faculty appointed Mr. W. 
The A. Williams to represent the college at the 

Intercollegiate State Oratorical Contest to be held in May, 
Contest. at some place not yet made known to the 
public. Mr. Williams has made a good record 
as a student and we feel confident that he will make a fine rep- 
resentative and do honor to himself and the institution. 

The students as a whole have never failed to back up their 
man and show their interest on the occasion by giving the 
college yells with a heartiness and vim that leaves behind no 
doubt of their sincerity. The students that question our 
college spirit and patriotism are surprised to see such a display 
of college pride when the occasion demands it. All we desire" 
is an excursion train and permission from the college, and we will 
be there en masse. 


± ± 

R. B. CARR, Editor. 

Mr. J. L. Neill has been appointed by the Faculty to rep- 
resent the College at the Crystal Springs Chautauqua. 

The officers of the Lamar Literary Society for the third 
term were elected Friday night, February 9: President, J. 


W. Frost; Vice-President, L. K. Carlton; Secretary, L. B. 
Robinson; Treasurer, T. L. Bailey. 

Dr. Murrah is very busy at present in raising the endow- 
ment fund. So far he has been very successful. He hopes 
to have raised by Commencement, the amount asked for by the 
Board of Trustees. 

The Y. M. C. A. elected officers Friday night, February 
9th, for the following year: 0. Backstrom, President; J. R. 
Bright, Vice-President; J. C. Rousseaux, Secretary; W. F. 
Murrah, Treasurer. 

We have a new student in school now who is attracting 
much attention. He is a Russian Jew, a Mr. Strom, originally 
from Odessa, but was forced to leave his home on account of 
the Russian mobs. 

On Friday night, February 18th, the debate between the 
Galloway and Lamar Societies, will take place. The question 
is: "Resolved, That the United States Congress should 
have full control of railroad rates." The Galloway debaters 
are, E. C. McGilvray and R. E. Jackson; the Lamar repre- 
sentatives, Jeff Collins and J. B. Ricketts. 

Kantaro Shivi, a young Japanese gave a lecture in the 
College chapel Friday night, February 3rd. His subject 
was the "Russo-Japanese War." During his lecture he gave 
stereoptican views of the principal seaports and battlefields, 
also of Admiral Togo and his fleet. 

Baseball is livening up a little at Millsaps now. A team 
has been selected with Paul Waugh as captain. To hear 
Waugh talk one would think his team is going to play the New 
York Americans. But, no! Conference says the game is 
entirely too rough for the tender boys. 

The most interesting event of the past month was the 
oratorical contest, February 7th, before the Faculty, between 
eleven representatives of the Junior and Senior classes. Mr. 
W. A. Williams, of Sallis, Miss., was selected by the Faculty 


to represent the college at the State Oratorical Contest. We 
are confident that we will win this year, as Mr. Williams is a 
good speaker as well as an excellent writer. The subject of 
his speech will be "Graft." 

The library continues to be supplied with good reading 
matter. Recently Professor Walmsley received from Rev. 
I. L. Peebles a "History of the Plymouth Plantation," by 
William Bradford. It is a fac simile copy of the old manu- 
script written in the days of the Plymouth settlement. This 
is a very valuable as well as interesting book. It is valuable 
not only on account of its rareness, there being only three 
copies in the United States, but also from a historical stand- 
point. In it one may find everything that happened to any 
of the settlers or to the colony as a whole. 


± ± 


By Edith Wharton. 

So many and varying have been the criticisms on "The 
House of Mirth" (what irony in the name!) that it is hard to 
glean from them a true estimate of the weakness or worth of 
the novel. 

It is the tragedy of the life of a New York society girl, 
Lily Bart. With little or no income and taught by heredity 
and environment to despise poverty, she comes face to face 
with the fact that she must marry — money or a man. Her 
better nature tells her that happiness will not come from the 
former course; an innate love of luxury and a wavering of 
purpose prevent the latter. 

Desperate over losses at bridge whist, she borrows money 
from Gus Trenor, the husband of her best friend. A train of 
evils follow this act — the unjust suspicions of her friends, the 
loss of an aunt's legacy, and finally ostracism from that "inner 


circle" within which she has so long revolved. The personal 
enmity of Bertha Dorset cost her the loss of a wealthy match. 

At last when she realizes that she might have had true 
happiness in the love of Lawrence Selden, pride will not let her 
show him she has relented. Misunderstandings arise, and 
when "he had found the word he meant to say to her," she 
could neither hear it nor answer with that word she had re- 
peated in her delirium. By mistake she had taken an over- 
dose of chloral. 

Gertrude Parish, gentle and full of charity, is alone faith- 
ful to Lily. Self-sacrificing and of an altogether lovely char- 
acter, she at once renounces Selden to the claim of her friend. 
The author might have given Gerty a much larger place in the 
story, were she not so fully occupied with the fortunes of the 
beautiful and fascinating Lily. 

Of the heroine's friends in her small "set," not one pos- 
sessed the qualities of true womanhood or manhood. Bertha 
Dorset is a heartless unbalanced creature; her husband melan- 
choly and aimless; Gus Trenor is a selfish rascal; his wife, whom 
Lily at first believed a true friend, a cold schemer; Mrs. Penis- 
ton, the aunt, "an insufferable example of brownstone-front 
respectability"; and the Jew, Rosedale, is kind hearted at times, 
but fit for no true friendship. 

The portrait of Selden, who was not properly of this sphere, 
is sketched only with light touches. We know simply that 
he is intelligent, yet worldly; and that he has the essentials of a 
strong character — worthy of Lily's love. 

Our national wealth since the sixties has given us a class 
who, with the very poor, are non-producers and who have 
erected false standards in our American life. We know that 
in this class are those who, like Lily Bart's set, sacrifice all 
finer and higher qualities to the passion for "keeping up" 
in the race of display. But for this novel to be hailed as typ- 
ically American rouses our democratic patriotism, and we 
applaud the sentiment of the Saturday Evening Post in saying, 
"We venture to believe that it is not great; to hope that it is 
not American." 


As regards structure, a majority of critics declare Mrs. 
Wharton's book almost faultless. Harmony of setting and 
unity throughout the plot hold our attention. Her clear style 
and true, even strokes never let our interest flag. Especially 
marked are these characteristics of style in the last chapters. 

Fault has been found with the conclusion. Perhaps 
it is a feeling that Lily should be rewarded for living down the 
temptation to marry for monej^ and our sympathy for her 
pathetic struggles. Yet the conditions of life that separate 
her from Selden seem to demand some such end. So it is with 
silent pity and awe that we watch him at her bedside, barely 
striving td gain some comfort from the thought that "at least 
he had loved her — had been willing to stake his future on his 
faith in her — and if the moment had been fated to pass from 
them before they could seize it, he saw now that, for both, it 
had been saved whole out of the ruin of their lives." 



For both mechanical get up and literary excellence the 
Emory Phoenix stands at the head of our exchanges. In the 
January number, which may be taken as a fair sample, the 
departments are well edited and the contributions are good. 
The name at the head of the exchange department recalls a 
familiar face and pleasant associations. It is not, however, 
because we are influenced by former ties and associations that 
we place Mr. Bo wen's department at the head of all our ex- 
changes, but because it belongs there. From the style of his 
criticisms one may readily understand that he is not striving 
to organize the exchange departments into a mutual admira- 
tion society but at the same time his criticisms are fair, and 
thorough. The most valuable contribution to this issue is 
the letter from the Rhodes student at Oxford. This letter, 
coming from such a source, could not be otherwise than well 
written, and the information given concerning the English 


students at the great university, the comparison of the Enghsh 
students with the students of American colleges, the descrip- 
tion of the University life and the general surroundings is in- 
teresting and valuable information to the i\merican student. 
The magazine is especially superior in the amount and quality 
of its verse. There are quite a number of short poems, all 
of which are good. Mr. A. T. Hind must be of invaluable 
service on account of his continued contributions of this nature. 

In the Academian the chief thing worthy of mention is 
the debate on the negative of the question, "That trusts are a 
greater menace to America than grafts." The speech is forcible 
and shows careful study and preparation. 

The Hillman Lesbidelian for January is an improvement 
on the preceding issue. "How Women of Today Give" is an 
article written in an attactive style and the writer shows a 
comprehensive knowledge of her subject. "The Lost Diamond" 
is an interesting short story with a good plot, and is well told. 

The Tattler apparently has a limited number of depart- 
ments or rather it has no departments; it seems to be run on a 
different plan from the majority of college magazines. To 
say this, however, is not to imply that the magazine is inferior, 
the contributions are excellent. "The New Year" is creditable 
verse, and the stories are superior to any we have read in college 
publications. "As is the Way of a Maid with a Soldier," while 
a love story, is admirably handled, and will compare favorably 
with the stories of our national magazines. 

"Uncle Remus at Randolph-Macon" is an excellent short 
story written as the title would suggest in the negro dialect, 
about animals. 

In the Oracle the contribution most worthy of attention 
is the oration, "The Demand of the Times." The orator 
devotes himself to an exposition of the evils of the day and 
appeals for reform. 


The name of the managing editor of the Columbia Col- 
legian, had it no other attractions, would make it welcome at 
this institution. It departs from the rule of college magazines 
in having members of the Faculty on the staff. We suppose 
that this is absolutely necessary to the existence of the maga- 
zine and therefore shall offer no criticism. The editorials are 
thoughtful and well written, and the locals are spicy and well 

gotten up. 



Unto the chamal Hall of Fame 

The dead alone should go; 
Then write not there the living name 

Of Edgar Allen Poe. 

— Georgetown College Journal. 


The bald headed man in his family pew. 

Leaned back on the cushions and slumbered. 

And he dreamed that the preacher these words had proclaimed, 
"The hairs of your head are all numbered." 

The bald headed man awoke with a start 

From his weekly devotional slumbers. 
Then he sank on his knees and fervently prayed, 

"Oh, Lord, send me down the back numbers!" — Ex. 


"My daughter," and his voice was stem, 
"You must set this matter right. 

What time did that Sophomore leave the house 
Who sent in his card last night?" 

"His work was pressing, father dear. 

And his love for it was great; 
He took his leave and went his way 

Before a quarter of eight." 


Then a twinkle came in her bright blue eye, 

And her dimples brighter grew; 
" 'Tis surely no sin to tell him that, 

For a quarter of eight is two." — Ex. 

Miss Sweetness — "Oh, Mr. Nocoin, how lovely of you to 
bring me these beautiful roses. How fresh they are! I do be- 
lieve that there is a little dew on them yet." 

Mr. Nocoin — "Well — yes — there is; but I will pay it to- 
morrow." — Ex. 

"There's one thing about you, my pretty maid, 
That I'd hke if it were no harm." 

"Do tell me what 'tis, kind sir," she said, 

And he softly responded: "My arm." — Ex. 

Umpire— "Foul." 

Freshie — "Where are the feathers?" 

Umpire — "This is a picked team, you idiot." — Ex. 

"A night of cram, 
An angry Prof. 
A tough exam., 
A busted Soph." 


Mary had a little lamb, 

'Twas good beyond all question; 
But then she went and had some more. 

And then had indigestion." — Ex. 

Lemuel — "Paw, what is a talking machine made of?" 
Father — "Well, the first one was made out of a rib." — Ex. 

We gratefully acknowledge the receipt of the following 
January magazines: Emory Phoenix, Castle Heights Herald, 
The Olive and Blue, The Reveille, Blue Mountain College Mag- 


azine, The Academy Girl, Mississippi College Magazine, The 
Spectator, Monroe College Monthly, The Randolph-Macon 
Monthly, The Review and Bulletin, the College Reflector, 
The Tattler, Ouachita Ripples, The Andrew College Journal, 
The High School Banner, The Columbia Collegian, The Hill- 
man Lesbidelian, The Whitworth Clionian, University of Mis- 
sissippi Magazine, The Oracle, The Academian. 


± _^ 

E. C. McGILVRAY, Editor. 

Expediency is a guide suitable to promote any desired 
end. This motto has characterized every advance taken by 
the college. For the first three or four years we had no col- 
legian; but when the time was ripe, the two literary societies 
took in hand the publication of the Collegian, which needed 
some support in its infancy. But this subject was necessary 
only for a short time, for it was soon found that with the co- 
operation of the students at large that the Collegian could go 
without further security being given by the societies. The 
magazine has been a reasonable success. And, as the op- 
portunity grew, the Faculty and students two years ago, at the 
suggestion of Prof. D. H. Bishop, planned for the publication 
of a college annual. Though Prof. Bishop was not with us last 
year to see his plans accomplished, the students got out an 
annual that compares with credit to any other of its kind. This 
year we are planning for an annual with not less than one hun- 
dred and sixty pages. All of the advances made by the col- 
lege has been timely and good. The Law Department was 
established after the college had been running for some years. 
With advancements on every hand it behooves the alumni 
to make some showing. 

What prevents the alumni meeting at Commencement 
from being one of the most interesting features of that occa- 
sion? It can not be for the lack of a sufficient number of grad- 
uates to take part in the program. This was a reasonable 


excuse until now; for our alumni is young and have not had time 
to mature. But as our graduates are old enough and large 
enough, ought we not make the alumni meeting what it ought 
to be? Last year there were not in all over fifty people at the 
alumni meeting, and the meeting was held in the Y. M. C. A. 
Hall. The Association succeeds in holding its meeting at 
every Commencement, but the meetings are not interesting 
to the members of the Association, much less to the public. 
This should not be the case. It should be attractive to its 
members and interesting to the public. It should have an 
hour for its program, and should have on that program some 
of the strongest men of the Association. Other institutions 
of no larger nor higher standing than ours has made this one 
of the most prominent features of the Commencement exer- 
cises. Then can we afford to be surpassed by every other 
feature of our own college, and by the alumni of other institu- 
tions? Now is the time to begin to plan for larger things. Let 
us strike while the iron is hot; for it is left with the alumni 
and not with the students. It is purely a matter in the hands 
of the alumni. Even the Faculty assumes no authority over 
it. If the alumni association would arrange to have their 
program come out in the Commencement invitations, and each 
member take personal interest in the Association, the Asso- 
ciation would soon stimulate an interest that would make it 
a success. Let us see to it, that the alumni meeting at the next 
Commencement is better attended, and in fact better in all 

Mr. B. C. Eaton, 1901, of Laurel, Miss., was a pleasant 
visitor on the campus last Friday night. Barney made distinc- 
tion whOe in College and is taking high rank as a lawyer now. 
Mr. Eaton has been a success as a student, as a teacher, and as 
logical and forceful lawyer. Above all, he has won the hand of 
an accomplished young lady of Memphis. Barney will draw 
an audience at the meeting of the alumni. 

We were glad to find this write-up for one of our boys 
in the Monroe papers: "Dr Dillard of Tulane spent an hour 
going through the city school yesterday during his stay in 


Monroe. He was especially pleased with the science work, and 
asked that copies of the 'Laboratory Manual' gotten out by the 
class under their teacher, Prof. Pittman, be sent to Tulane 
University for inspection. The class has just completed its 
work in Zoology and will take up Botany. In this class com- 
plimented by the Dean, are Misses Iris Newton, Clara Wetzel, 
Clara Goodson, Daisy Strong, Olivette Broadway, Mabel James, 
Addie Gladden, Ed Terry and Travis Ohver." 

"Monroe and Homer are the only two cities in the State 
possessing a complete laboratory. Shreveport has one but 
it is incomplete as yet and cannot turn out as high grade work 
as Monroe." 

Dr. Dillard said that it was a pleasure and an inspiration 
to him to see the kind of building in which the Monroe children 
are taught to witness the kind of work going forward in that 




The Jones Drug Stores 

West Jackson and Up town* 

Luther Manship, Jr. C. M. Gordon. 


Dealers in Wood and High Grade Domestic Coals. 
'Phone 1039. Jackson, Miss. 

F" I_J F? is: 1 T U t^ E^ 



315 S. State Street. 


Special Prices Made to College Students and Societies. 
CALL TO SEE US. 313 S. State Street 

Phone 380. JACKSON, MISS 


VoL 8. Jackson, Miss,, March, 1906. No. 4. 


Resolved, That a flexible constitution such as that of 
England would be preferable to our rigid one. 

The term, good government, is relative. What is excel- 
lent for one people may be disastrous for another. For en- 
lightened England or America, nothing surpasses democracy; 
for the ignorant Turk nothing could be more demoralizing. 
So, while the question from the wording may mean that a 
flexible constitution such as England's would be preferable 
for any and all countries, as well as it may mean that the flexi- 
ble constitution would be preferable to our rigid one for America 
only (since the first interpretation would involve a discussion 
of the character of every nationality on the globe), we are 
compelled, if we discuss the question with any satisfaction to 
ourselves or to you, to argue from the latter interpretation. 
Therefore, I shall endeavor to define the flexibility and rigidity 
of the two constitutions, to discuss the temperament of the 
people for which each is preferable and to show that the tem- 
perament of the American people is best suited for working 
the flexible constitution. 

The flexibility of the English constitution lies in the sov- 
ereignty of Parliament, and since the Commons are ulti- 
mately supreme, the sovereignty of Parhament may be modified 
to the expression, the sovereignty of the House of Commons. 
The Lords are no longer co-equal and at some point must 
yield. The veto power has long since slipped from the hands 
of the monarch and were Edward's death warrant sent him by 
Parliament, he would have no alternative but to sign it. 
Though a monarchy in name, England is the most democratic 
of nations. The Commons, the direct representatives of 
the people, are omnipotent. When acting in harmony with 
the will of the people, no power can stay their course. They 
can abolish the throne and the House of Lords, and so long as 


England retains a throne and a House of Lords, we may- 
conclude that it is the wish of the people that they be retained. 

This is all that need be said of the English constitution. 
We believe that it approaches perfection more nearly than 
any other polity but whether it be perfect or very imperfect 
does not enter largely into the discussion. Because it is as 
nearly perfect as a majority wish it, and when a majority 
think that a change will be beneficial they can make the 
change immediately. Neither does the condition of English 
local government affect the discussion. The question deals 
with the national constitutions only and our nation might 
have a flexible constitution and the states retain their rigid 

The rigidity of our own constitution lies, first in the non- 
sovereignty of any single branch of government, in the non 
sovereignty of all branches combined, and at times because 
of the difficulty of amendment, in the non-sovereignty of 
the people themselves. The election of our president, sena- 
tors and representatives, either directly or indirectly, by the 
people does not insure the harmonious working of the three 
branches. Any important measure to become a law must 
be incorporated in the policy of one of the great parties. And 
against a majority of the important measures in 
the poHcy of one party, the other party is 
arrayed in opposition. Not infrequently it occurs 
that the democrats have a majority in the House 
of Representatives, while the republicans control the Senate. 
Neither party can have what it wishes, but contents itself 
with thwarting the other, while the ship of state can pursue 
no steady course, but merely turns round in the water. The 
refusal of the Senate a few months ago to pass the bill pro- 
viding for government regulation of extortionate railroad 
rates furnishes an example of lack of harmony between the 
two houses, even when both were controlled by the same 

The rigidity of our Constitution lies, secondly in the 
restrictions placed upon Congress. A limited number of 


topics is enumerated upon which Congress is empowered 
to legislate, and powers not granted to Congress are reserved 
for the states. And this restriction is one of vital import. 
There have been tremendous changes since the birth of the 
Constitution. The states which at first were paramount 
have grown less and less, and the nation more and more. 
The subjects upon which Congress can legislate, while they 
were sufficient for the youthful repubhc, have become in- 
adequate for the expanded nation of today. Already a num- 
ber of questions have arisen which Congress alone can suc- 
cessfully manage. The tendency of all federal systems, says 
Mr. Woodrow Wilson, is to drift into the unitarian govern- 
ment; centralization is already our national policy, and the 
more this becomes true, the broader should be the field of 
legislation for Congress. That the same man may be a law- 
abiding citizen in Iowa and a bigamist in South Carolina 
is illustrative proof that Congress before now should have 
controlled divorce laws. The recent struggle between Kansas 
and the Standard Oil Company proves that a state is unable 
to cope with the great corporations. 

One might naturally but erroneously consider the restric- 
tions placed upon Congress as a species of rigidity to which 
there can be little objection. For if new and imperative 
questions arise, upon which Congress is not empowered to 
act, the door of the Constitution has been left open and two- 
thirds of both Houses of Congress and the Legislatiu*es of 
three-fourths of the states may amend it and give Congress 
the necessary power. This is true in theory; in practice 
it is no more true than another theory we have — that the 
president is chosen by a select few, the state electors. It 
is indeed lamentable that the representative bodies of the 
nation cannot act harmoniously in passing amendments, 
when it is obvious to all that the amendments are needed. 
But it is a fault of human nature and exists in us no more 
than in other peoples. It is natural for bodies of men to 
wrangle. Even in ordinary legislation, a measure rarely 
passes through both houses without being different when 


it leaves the second from what it was when it left the first. 
This trouble is aggravated thirty-five times in passing a con- 
stitutional amendment. Two houses of congress and the 
legislatures of thirty-four states, because of the perversity 
and disputatiousness of bodies of men, will almost never, agree. 
Party organizations which increase the rigidity in ordinary 
legislation tend also to make the constitution more difficult 
to amend. A party amendment cannot be successful because 
neither party controls three-fourths of the states. An amend- 
ment that is not a party amendment must depend upon the 
efforts of all. And falling under the head of everybody's 
business, it becomes nobody's business and fails. The fact 
that there have been so few amendments indicates the dif- 
ficulty. There are but two deserving the name. The first 
ten came immediately after and are really a part of the origmal 
draft. The last three came when the country had been torn 
with civil war and were really forced upon a conquered people. 
Notwithstanding the value of the eleventh and the pressing 
need of it, it was nearly three years being adopted. The 
people today are desirous of electing their United States 
Senators; the House of Representatives have almost unan- 
imously proposed such an amendment; but the Senate prefer 
not to be elected by the people, and the amendment has never 
reached a state legislature. There is another method of amend- 
ment, but as it is even more impracticable than the one men- 
tioned and has never been used, it needs no discussion. 

By the theory of our constitution the people are sovereign. 
But it is not always true. In the election of sentators and 
in other cases where the people wish to alter the constitution 
but because of the difficult mode of amendment they are three 
years in making the alteration or fail to make it at all, then 
for those three years or whatever length of time it takes to 
make the change, the people are not sovereign, or rather it 
is the dead people of 1787 who are sovereign and not the 
living people of 1905. A free people should have their destiny 
in their own hands, upon questions which directly concern 
the people, as for example, the income tax law, the discussion 


should be among the people or among the people's repre- 
sentatives, upon the merits and expediency of the measure 
at hand, and not among seven or nine men as to the meaning 
of a passage that was written a century before. 

Whether it is better for a people to possess a constitution 
that provides for swift legislation and can itself be as swiftly 
changed, whether it is better for the people to be able to exe- 
cute their wishes swiftly through their chosen representatives; 
or whether it is better to have a constitution that provides 
checks, and restrains the people against themselves, and can 
itself be changed only with extreme difficulty; in other words, 
whether it is better to have a flexible or rigid constitution 
depends upon the chartacer and intelligence of the people 
in question. If a people are ignorant, if they have little 
genius for politics, if they are of an impetuous and radical 
nature, likely to form hasty and rash conclusions, if there is 
danger that they will take a step that will seriously impair 
the welfare of the state — a step which they themselves will 
afterward regret — it is well that such a people should be 
restrained against themselves and they should have a con- 
stitution that abounds in checks and safe-guards. But for 
an enlightened people, who possess a genius for politics, a 
people not given to hasty and radical movements, and who, 
when acting upon measures that vitally concern th^ state, 
do so only after due deliberation — such a people need no re- 
straining against themselves and for them rigid checks are 
not only unnecessary but harmful. 

Since the English are conceded to be such a people, there 
is no question as to the constitution best suited for them. 
We contend that Americans are also conservative and equally 
as capable of deciding upon all questions that may arise. 
In all steps that have been taken in which the welfare of 
the nation was involved the common sense of our people has 
always prevailed. Those measures which would have en- 
dangered the republic, the people themselves have killed, 
and they have urged their representatives to take those im- 
portant steps that have been taken only after due considera- 


tion. The war with Spain was not demanded in a moment 
of excitement because Spanish authorities were suspected of 
wrecking the Maine; but the people demanded it after they 
had grown weary of watching the oppression of Cuba and 
they had already reached their conclusions before the Maine 
was anchored in Havana harbor. The strong sentiment 
today against combines and trusts and the demand for their 
regulation is not an opinion the people have formed in a few 
weeks stirred by demagogues and low-bred politicians, but 
it is a sentiment that has been years in developing and has 
its roots deep in the minds of the people. In 1896 when the 
people were suffering from a great business depression and 
a most brilliant orator declared throughout the country that 
free silver would restore prosperity, many of the great busi- 
ness men feared the result. But when the issue was tested, 
the majority against the radical movement was the greatest, 
until that time, ever polled in a presidential election. It is 
a custom of some to despise the ability of the masses of our 
people; they say that the people are not always right. But 
the history of our country bears out rather the statement of 
him who said, "The people are seldom wrong." The Amer- 
icans have shown a genius for politics scarcely equalled by any 
other people. This is why the merits of the constitutions 
cannot be determined by comparing the prosperity of the 
two nations. For the prosperity of a government depends 
more upon the merits of the people who work the constitution 
than upon the constitution itself. Would any people not 
having a genius for politics have settled the disputed election 
of Hayes and Tilden as judiciously as did the Americans? 
(But it is useless to multiply examples along this line.) The 
genius of Americans for politics has excited the admiration 
of other countries. Mr. Bryce, the greatest perhaps of modem 
English statesmen, says: "The American people have a prac- 
tical aptitude for politics, a clearness of vision and a capacity 
for self-control never equalled by any other nation." Com- 
menting further, he says: "Tlie American people can work 
any constitution. The danger for them is that their reliance 


on their skill and their star may make them heedless of the 
faults of their political machinery, slow to devise improvements 
which are best applied in quiet times." 

Let us suppose for argument's sake that America is radical. 
We have admitted that for an ignorant radical people the 
rigid constitution is best. But for an enlightened people, 
even though they be radical, we hold that a flexible consti- 
tution is preferable. Because a constitution like the English 
among an enlightened people tends to produce conservatism. 
It tends to produce conservatism because it throws respon- 
sibility directly and undisguisedly upon the people, and the 
people's representatives, and responsibility ever begets a 
thoughtful and sober temperament. That responsibility might 
at first confuse an enlightened people does not argue against 
throwing responsibihty upon them. "If a man is brought 
from a dungeon, the light blinds him; but the remedy is not 
to remand him to the dungeon, but to let him grow accustomed 
to the light." So the remedy for a radical people is not to 
remove power from them, but to let them grow accustomed 
to its use. 

In reality we are already making our constitution as 
flexible as any of earth. But we are doing it in a way that 
is alarming to those who have seen the evils of such a course 
in the history of other peoples. We are making it flexible 
by overriding and disregarding it. The supreme court may 
by distorted interpretations make legal, measures that are 
unconstitutional. But view the matter as we may, we cannot 
deny that the supreme judges have interpreted the constitu- 
tion to mean that which the framers of it never intended it 
should mean. The first clause of the eighth section which 
in the judgment of all candid men, and which Jefferson expressly 
said, gives Congress power to lay and collect duties and im- 
posts in order that it may promote the general welfare, has 
been construed by the court to mean that Congress shall have 
power to do anything that in the judgment of the court will 
promote the general welfare. If this be true, no constitution 
can be more flexible than our own. For by this distorted 


interpretation, any legislation may be pronounced constitu- 
tional. By this method, it makes no difference whether the 
constitution be easy or difficult to amend, for the constitution 
will never need amending. But the danger of such a method 
is obvious. This judge-made welfare clause already confficts 
with the restrictions on congressional legislation and as con- 
ditions change it must conflict more. As a result, the Amer- 
ican people — acknowledged the most law-revering people on 
earth — will behold the supreme law of the land over-ridden 
in place after place. And when they see their supreme law 
violated, they will lose their respect not only for that law, 
but for all law. They will come to regard law as something 
to be obeyed when it pleases, as something to be violated 
when it thwarts them. 

This over-riding of our constitution has already led to 
a lack of respect for it which is clearly visible in our statesmen 
today. Three years ago. Senator Beveridge declared in the 
Senate, that "The Declaration of Independence and the Con- 
stitution have had their day and served their purpose. The 
Declaration is now a lot of glittering generalities, and the 
constitution has become the swaddling clothes of the nation." 
True, few — perhaps, none — of his colleagues approved of so 
sweeping and radical an assertion. But that he was permitted 
to retain his seat in the senate after such an utterance concern- 
ing the constitution he had sworn to defend, shows a marked 
decline in the reverence with which it was formerly held. 
Fifty years ago, he would have been impeached. 

Then at last we are confronted by this dilemma: our 
constitution so restrains action of Congress that there is no 
question of a need of greater freedom. We must either stay 
cramped within the narrow bounds of constitutional limitations, 
or break these bounds. In either case what is the remedy? 

In conclusion, we have proved that our own constitution 
is too rigid. That conditions change and no set of laws can 
stand for aU ages and all conditions. That at times it is neces- 
sary to change swiftly, and at such times we must suffer from 
delay on account of the difficulty of amendment, or the con- 


stitution must be over-ridden and that the over-riding of the 
supreme law will lead to a disregard for all law. We have 
shown also that under a rigid constitution like our own the 
people are not always sovereign because of the diflEiculty of 
changing laws that were made a long time before. We have 
shown by definition that the English constitution may be 
changed as swiftly as conditions may demand; and supple- 
mentary to this, we have shown that Americans are a people 
having a genius for politics, and that they are less likely to 
suffer from taking a hasty and rash step than they are to suffer 
from the delay caused by changing a rigid constitution; we 
have shown that a flexible constitution like the English tends 
to produce conservatism; we have shown that the flexible 
constitution of England is more democratic than our own, 
because under it the people may accomplish quickly what 
seems best for them and are not delayed by men who lived 
generations before and who could not foresee all the con- 
ditions that must arise. Therefore, we hold that a flexible 
constitution such as that of England would be preferable to 
our rigid one. 

(Second on Affirmative.) W A, Williams. 


June first was a bright day. The sun in glorious splen- 
dor had arisen and the birds were singing their wonted songs. 
Despite the congenial atmosphere there was no little sickness 
on the college campus. Already could be seen groups of 
fellows lying under the trees and undergoing the last stages 
of Spring fever; for the last examination would be held at 
noon and then would come Commencement on the next day. 
But this Spring fever, although it created laziness, was, never- 
theless, the means of begetting the plot of this story. Then 
we must remember that sickness does not always disable; they 
say that Scott wrote often while he was suffering much — how- 
ever, not with Spring fever. 

Let us especially notice a group of fellows under a hickory 


tree. They seem to have found a panacea for their ailment, 
— for they are talking eagerly, yet now and then low laughter 
can be heard, and sleepy eyes once again sparkle, as a fellow 
slaps a friend on the shoulder. 

"We'll take him down tonight," says Nick Broomfield, 
always ready to play a trick on some one who needed it. 

"Good, Nick, and you be sure to put that cotton in your 
pocket!" replied Jack Marshall, a big, square-shouldered foot- 
ball player. 

The bell rang and students began pouring into the class 
rooms to take the final examination which would last from 
two until five o'clock in the afternoon. This, of course, caused 
our group to scatter, and soon they were all hard at work. 

Jim Lamey had always been what the fellows call "scary." 
He was of low stature and was rather heavy for his height. 
It was easy to see that his was of a nervous disposition. When 
he spoke in reciting or conversing, his eye-hds would blink 
incessantly. For him to stay in a room at night-by himself 
was a thing that he could not endure. And when he went 
down in town to see his girl, it was always with someone whom 
he could trust. 

The hours passed away and the examination was over. 
One by one the fellows had come out and some of those who 
came first were less fortunate than those who came last. Mar- 
shall and Lamey came out last, and the former slapped the 
latter on the back and said: "Say, old man, let's go to town 
tonight. You haven't seen your girl in a long time. Some of 
the other fellows want to go also." 

"Just the ticket, Marshall," said Larney. "She told me 
to bring a crowd of you fellows along and she would have a 
crowd of girls. We'll go on the car and walk back; what do 
you say?" 

"What suits you tickles me to death," was Marshall's 
answer, and he further said, looking grave, "but remember 
this, old man, when we get to the cemetery, you must pull 
your hat down over your eyes. Before that, by all means 


keep j^oiir hat upon the back of your head! This will be the 
law of our company tonight." 

It was a merry scene in which our group of fellows mingled 
that night. It was in a spacious parlor in town, and a number 
of the town girls were entertaining the college boys. Marshall 
and Broomfield and Larney with their friends were enjoying 
the evening. Larney never once though of the long cemetery 
through which he must pass on his way back to the dormitory; 
he knew that he was with his crowd, and he trusted them. 
Nor did his crowd forget the purpose of the evening, as was 
evident to any close observer who could see something unusual 
in the laughter that was not produced by the games of the 
evening, and in the un-called-for nudges given by the boys to 
each other. 

The time came to go. Larney and his college friends 
bade their fairer friends a good night and departed. The 
word was again remembered and spoken, that all in the crowd 
should keep their hats on the back of their heads until they 
should reach the cemetery, when they should one and all pull 
their hats over their eyes and quicken their pace. 

The white stones were visible in the pale moonlight ahead, 
and Larney walked closer to Marshall. All laughing and talking 
in the crowd had ceased, and the boj-s became silent and sober 
as they approached the city of the dead. 

The grave-yard had been entered. The boys had pulled 
their hats over their eyes and begun to walk faster. But 
Larney 's hat was still on the back of his head; he had either 
disregarded the watchword or forgotten it. When the boys 
glanced at him, they saw him trying to look fearless, but 
they also saw his eyelids blinking. They knew that if he 
did not pull his hat over his eyes, their purpose would be 
defeated. They began to be impatient. At length, while 
they were entering the middle of the grave-yard, Marshall 
thought of a plan. In hasty words he cried, "Behind the 
stones, each one of you!" Immediately the crowd scattered. 
Larney stood in the middle of the walk not knowing what to 
do. He was scared now sure enough. As was natural his 


hand went up to steady his hat which was fast moving from 
its position. He gave up the idea of trying to look bold 
and pulled his hat down over his ej^es. He had decided to 
run. But as he pulled his hat over his eyes, there loomed 
up before him a great white monster! He turned to run the 
other way, but lo, it was again confronting him! Backward 
and, forward, this way and that, he would try to go, but each 
time this monster would float before him! He determined to 
get away from it or die in the attempt. He threw off his 
coat upon the ground; he grabbed his hat and tlirew it 
upon the ground— then he saw the white monster no more. 
But out of the cemetery he ran as hard as he could. 

At midnight the mischief was over and silence reigned 
amid the old grave stones. The next morning the college 
boys were still sleeping when the sexton, while taking his 
morning walk, found a coat, and a little farther on, a hat with 
a wad of cotton pinned underneath the front part of the brim. 



Twelve loud, long strokes of the hall clock broke the silence 
of the corridors; simultaneously doors opened noiselessly and 
silent figures glided to the staircase and went swiftly up. 
The door of the little French teacher's room had opened also 
and she stood irresolute; from the opposite side of the hall a 
tall, dignified figure came quickly to her side, firmly grasped 
her arm, and led her up the stairs after the phantom-like forms. 
Swiftly they went up stair-case after stair-case until they 
stood before the door of a small, vacant room; cautiously 
the door was opened and they filed in and then, as if by common 
consent, all began to whisper. 

At first the little French teacher was nervous and ill at 
ease, but she was young and had not forgotten her school- 
girl frolics, and soon the gay girlish merriment banished every 
scruple of the impropriety of her presence at a mid-night 
feast of the Senior class. 


An old wardrobe stood in the corner and from its depths 
odd shaped, brown paper packages were brought forth. 

"Where are the oHves?" suddenly asked Louise. "I 
am sure I saw Ethel bring them up." 

"0, I left them on my table," answered Ethel, "and my 
room is way down on the first floor next to Miss Smith's." 

"I can get them without any trouble," said Mabel, and 
was gone before any one could protest. 

Newspapers were spread on the floor and the work of 
spreading the feast began. Salmon cans, sardine boxes, pickle 
jars were laboriously opened by means of pocket knives; olives 
were fished out with hat pins, and crackers and fruits were 
scattered lavishly over the board; at last everything was 
ready and everyone prepared to enjoy it to the fullest extent. 
But suddenly foot-falls were heard; they drew nearer, and near- 
er; the little French teacher's face grew deathly pale — 
what if she should be caught! 

"Get in the wardrobe," whispered Louise; no sooner 
said than done; the door was shut and aU candles blown out. 
The steps were coming up the stair; they paused at the head 
of the last flight, then came slowly on; a hand was placed on 
the door-knob, it turned, it was given a vigorous shake, but 
yielded not an inch. The girls, who had expected the door 
to fly open and the wrathful face of the matron to peer at 
them in the dim light, were much astonished that the door 
did not open. After another angry shake the hand was 
removed from the door, the footsteps retreated down the hall 
and died away into the distance; for a full three minutes 
not a word was said; then some one sighed deeply and whis- 

"Why on earth didn't that door open; are we locked in?" 

"I guess so," said Mabel. "When I came back with 
the olives I bolted the door, because I thought if Miss Smith 
did try the door and find it locked she would think nothing 
of it, this being a vacant room." 

"You saved us," said several as the candles were lighted 
and the feast began again. 


"Girls, do let me out," came a smothered voice from 
the wardrobe. 

"How could we have forgotten her," said Louise as she 
hastened to open the door, but it stuck fast and it took the 
combined efforts of the girls to get it opened. 

"If ever I get forgiveness for this, I promise you will 
never see me at another mid-night feast," she panted. 

The teachers at the Senior table wondered why the girls 
had no appetite for breakfast the next morning; but the 
little French teacher smiled knowingly, and whispered to 
the nearest senior: "The night-mares I had about being 
shut into dark cells and seeing little fish snapping at me were 
enough to turn one grey." 

— S. 


A few years since one, of the young professors of Sociology 
in Princeton University spent his summer vacation in trying 
to live the life of a tramp, and afterwards collected his ex- 
periences into a small book. 

One is struck in reading this book, A Day with a Tramp, 
with the marked and yet seemingly correct distinction be- 
tween country and city life. In the city the supply of labor 
is greater than the demand, while in the country the condi- 
tions are reversed. The whole cry in the country is more 
laborers, more work, and higher prices for raw products. 
The people are absorbed in the problem of obtaining suf- 
ficient help to till the farms and to harvest the crops after 
they have been made. 

This demand for more laborers has caused the country 
people to appreciate their fellows more, and has opened the 
way for a higher social development of the socius. The 
country shows more signs of development of the conscious- 
ness of kind than the citj^ But in saying this, it should 
be remembered that the conditions for the development of 
the socius in the city has some advantages in the way of ed- 


ucation and rapid communication, and that the city has 
in many respects outstripped the country in its developement, 
but it is lacking in the fundamental principle of brotherhood 
which must be at the basis of all forms of social organization. 
For without fraternity there can be no permanence in social 

In the city the social constitution is so rigidly formed 
and so unyielding that it becomes coercive, and retards the 
development which, from the natural advantages of the cities, 
ought to be attained. For "the forms of social organization, 
whether pohtical or otherwise, in their relation to the individual, 
are necessarily coercive if, in their membership, there is great 
diversity of kind and great inequality." 

This condition is more noticeable in the cities than in 
the country. There is a more fraternal feeling existing among 
country people than among the people of the city. No country 
man is ever so busy with his farm but that he is willing to 
meet a stranger and hear what he has to say. The country 
folk speak to the passing stranger who passes by unnoticed 
in the city. This readiness to communicate with any and 
all people tends to educate the lower class, and to elevate 
them to a higher social position. With this growing mental 
and moral equaUty of the people, the country's developement, 
socially, seems to be more enduring and stable. For "the 
institutions or other forms of social organization can be lib- 
eral, conceding the utmost freedom to the individual if, in 
the population, there is fraternity and back of fraternity, 
an approximate mental and moral equality." 

The city people have more sympathetic and formal like- 
mindedness which seems to predominate over rational like- 

The failure in social organizations of any kind is due 
largely to the inability to appreciate the other man's position. 
Under such conditions hke-mindedness can never exist. It 
seems that the man in A Day with a Tramp came as near 
learning to appreciate the other man's position as any one 
could; but there seems to have been all the while in his mind 


a consciousness that he could better his condition by finding 
other work to do. The common laborer knows how to do 
only one or two kinds of work and has but little adaptibihty 
to learn to do anything else. So it was impossible for the 
man to live in the universe of the tramp from a mental and 
spiritual point of view. He shared in a perfect way with 
the tramp in his physical troubles, but this was of minor 
importance when compared with the mental and spiritual 
part of the beggar's nature. This failure to understand 
and inability to sympathize is the one great barrier to all 
social progress. 

Communities are prevented from developing their social 
institutions more by the lack of a mental and moral equahty 
than by a lack of fraternity. These elements all go to make 
up like-mindedness, and if a community is without any one 
of these, it falls short of true hke-mindedness, the primary 
factor in all social organization, and it can never exist as it 
should without an equally developed mental, moral and fra- 
ternal sense or feeling among its components. Upon the 
whole our nation is developing its social institutions; but 
some sections are in better condition to make permanent 
and lasting development than others. Though the cities 
have made more progress, the country population with its 
fraternal feehng and readiness to sympathize shows more 
signs of permanent social development. The west, with its 
dominant spirit of democracy and its newly developed insti- 
tutions, is open to a much more satisfactory social evolution 
than any other section of our country. It has the same 
opportunity here that it has always had to profit by the mis- 
takes of the east and northeast. So the west in developing 
its natural resources, has an opportunity to develop its social 
institutions in an ideal way. This advantage is due principally 
to the equal development of the three requisites, the fra- 
ternal, the moral and the mental— all of which make up Hke- 




It was on the fourteenth day of September, nineteen 
hundred, that I first started off to college. I had no idea 
what college life was and what it meant. I had kissed the 
home-folks good-bye, and was on the train which would carry 
me a thousand miles from home to a college I knew nothing 

When I entered the sleeper I noticed an old man sitting 
in the place which was saved for me. I sat down by him, 
and soon engaged in conversation with him. He told me his 
name was Andrew Howard, and that he was going to New 
York to see his son-in-law. He asked me if I were going to 
school, and to what place. After I told him that I was on my 
way to school and that I was going to Williamsburg, Va., 
he said that he wanted to tell me a story about his college life. 
The weather was very warm, so we went to the rear end of 
the sleeper. After rolling some "Cut plug" in the palm of 
his hand, he filled his old cob pipe and lighted it. He pulled 
his chair up close to mine and started his story: 

"Just forty years ago tonight I was on my way to the 
same college that you are going to now. There were no 
railroads then; at least there were none through this section 
of the country. So my father, mother and sister were trav- 
eling in a cloth covered wagon. My father had bought a 
tract of land forty miles north of Williamsburg, and was 
moving his family there so as to be close to a school for his 
children. We traveled all day and part of the night for thirty- 
eight days before we reached Williamsburg. School had al- 
ready opened; so my father stayed with me three days to get 
me started, and then went to his future home near a village 
called Cloth. 

"Before I left home I shpped grandpa's old horse pistol 
in my box with some powder and caps. I didn't need it, 
but I thought it would be safer if one in the family carried 
a gun on such a journey. I had been at school about two 
weeks when several boys came around and said that they 


had been appointed by the secret order of 'Hyenas' to 'buck' 
all 'rats' or new boys that came to college. Well I always 
have had a high temper, and when they told me to strip off 
and take twenty-five licks with a chestnut paddle, I grew 
wild with rage and said that I would not take it. They told 
me that I had better take it without any trouble, or it would be 
twice as hard. About that time I thought about the old horse 
pistol, and told them to get out or there would be trouble. 
They thought that I was joking until I threw that old cannon- 
mouth pistol in their faces. They fairly flew down the steps; 
didn't take time to close the door. 

"Next morning I found a note tacked upon my door 
saying that the 'Hyenas' would attend to me the next night. 
That made me madder than ever, so I stayed in my room 
all day waiting for them. About 8 o'clock some one knocked 
on my door and I asked, 'Who's there?' They said, 'Hyenas.' 
I said that the first 'Hyena' that put his head in that door 
would get shot. I stood over in one comer with the pistol. 
They didn't come in at first, but after a httle the door opened 
and a man came in. I fired and he dropped. I loaded my 
gun and waited for another, but no other came. I went 
over to examine my dead man, and found that it was a 'dummy.' 
I felt better after I found out that I had shot a 'dummy' in- 
stead of a man. 

"The 'Hyenas' didn't try to 'buck' me any more after 
that night, but they always tried to get even with me for 
shooting the 'dummy'. They all called me 'dummy' as long 
as I was there, and that reminds me I got a postal the other 
day addressed to 'dummy' from an old school-mate of mine 
who lives in Italy. 

"It is getting late, so we had better retire. I wanted 
to tell you this tale so you can tell Professor Martin that you 
saw the man who shot the 'dummy'; he will know all about it." 

J. B. Catching. 



It was just twilight and that strange lull which always 
comes at that hour was over all; in a little old-fashioned sitting 
room an old lady sat before the fire lost in reverie; her sad 
grey eyes had a dreamy look as though she were living again 
the days of the long ago. 

"Well, dearie, you are late tonight," she said as a slender 
young girl entered the room. "Did you almost forget to 

"Forget to come!" echoed Lois. "No indeed! I had 
to help father for awhile, and have just finished. You know 
I love this hour better than any other in the day." 

"I am glad you do," said her aunt, "it is dearest to me 

Lois took her accustomed seat on the low stool, and 
as her aunt looked into the fair young face, around which 
the auburn curls clustered almost childishly, she sighed. 

"Lois," she said, "this is the night of your eighteenth 
birth-day, and I am going to tell you a story. Do you care 
to hear a sad one tonight?" 

"Yes, please," said Lois. "I am always ready to hear 
your stories." 

Her aunt arose and took a small velvet case from her 
desk, and returning to her place, she began: 

"It is a long, long time since I was eighteen. We were 
living about fifteen miles from a settlement, and it was very 
lonely, but the autumn before I had met Robert Leigh at my 
cousin's, and since then he had been a frequent visitor at our 
home. He was there on my eighteenth birth-day, and as we 
sat together in the moonlight we were engaged, and he placed 
this ring on my finger; it was an heirloom in his family and 
highly prized." 

She opened the case and showed Lois a large ruby in a 
richly wrought setting. 

"We parted, each thinking of the bright, golden future 
before us, little dreaming what sudden blight would come 


to chill our rapture. About midnight a loud ring at the door 
bell echoed through the silent house, excited voices were heard 
at the door, and in a moment the house was in confusion. 
My hands trembled so I could scarcely dress. At last, when 
I hurried into the hall, father told me that a band of hostile 
Indians were coming towards our home from the north. 

"In a short time the carriage was at the door and we 
were ready to start; John drove and father and the boys rode 
horseback. I shall never forget that ride. We went through 
the thick woods; not a sound could be heard save the low 
murmuring of the night breeze through tbe tree tops, and 
the far-away call of the whip-poor-will. The moon hung 
low in the clear blue sky, and filled the woods with its wierd 
light. I watched so closely to see a tall Indian spring from 
the shadows that the whole woods seemed filled with dusky 

"At sunrise we reached the settlement in safety, and 
at noon a hunter who lived near us came in and said the In- 
dians had burned our house and were camping on the grounds. 
The Governor of the settlement was an old friend of my father's, 
and he offered him a position in one of the settlements on 
the banks of the Mississippi. Father accepted this offer, 
and we set off immediately on our long journey. 

"Our departure had been so hasty and unlooked for that 
I had not been able to send my lover a message, not knowing 
where he was. I have not seen him since." 

The soft voice ceased, and as Lois looked into the gentle 
face above her a tear rolled down the furrowed cheek and 
fell on the ruby, making it gleam brighter than before. 

"Lois," she said, "I am going to give you this ring, be- 
cause I love you better than any one else, and I know you 
will keep it sacred." 

She placed the ring on Lois' finger, and Lois rose, kissed 
her and left the room. 

Almost two years had passed since that evening. It 
was a bright Sunday morning and Lois sat in the little country 
church so busy with her own thoughts that she did not notice 


the dark haired young man who had entered the same pew. 
She moved to make room for her aunt who was just coming 
in, and dropped her glove. The stranger picked it up, and 
as he went to hand it to her his eyes fell on the old ring she 
wore; he started and said: 

"I beg your pardon, but did that ring once befong to 
Miss Lois Gordon?" 

"Yes," answered Lois, much surprised, "it was hers." 

The young man took a card from his pocket and handed 
it to her; on it was the name, "Robert Leigh, Jr." 

At the close of the service she introduced him to her 
aunt, who invited him to dinner. He went with them, and 
as they sat together on the cool porch he told them the story 
his father had told him just before his death; how he had 
searched for his lost swweetheart many years, and finally 
despairing of ever finding her, he bad married another. He 
told him of the ruby ring, and that was why he had recognized 
it so quickly. 

Robert Leigh, Jr., was often at their home after that, 
and it was no great wonder that Cupid found a mark for his 
arrow ere many months had passed. 

— L 


Whereas, We have been brought to lament 
the death of a class-mate, Robert P. Jordan, 
which sad event occurred on February 22, there- 
fore, be it 

Resolved. 1st, Thatjwe, the Freshman Class, 
while bowing in submission to God's will in this 
matter, hereby express our admiration of the 
worthy traits of character of the one taken from 

Resolved 2nd, We extend our heartfelt sym- 
pathy to the family so deeply bereaved by his 

Resolved, 3rd, That a copy of these reso- 
lutions be sent to the bereaved family, and that 
a copy be published in the Collegian. 
M. I. Moore, 
W. F. Holmes, 
W. A. Welch, 
J. B. Huddleston, 



VoL 8. Jackson, Miss*, March, J 906* No. 5, 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College. 

J. A. Baker Editor-in-Chief 

W. A. Williams Associate Editor 

R. B. Carr Local Editor 

Frances Park Literary Editor 

E. C. McGiLVRAY Alumni Editor 

L. E. Price Business Manager 

J. C. Neill, J. C. Rousseaux Assistant Business Managers 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to L. E. Price. 

Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be 

sent to J. A. Baker, Editor-in-Chief. 

Issued the 1st of Each Month During the College Year. 

Subscription, Per Annimi, $1.00 Two Copies, $1.50 Per Aimum 


How foreign is the word, and how inadequate to 
Athletics, express the true nature of outdoor sport! But 
when the term is restricted in its apphcation, how 
limited must be the real opportunities! The name, athletics, 
recalls to our mind an interesting and bright past, but we 
can neither see nor conscientiously predict a future as bright 
and instructive in athletics. Some may censure us and rightly 
too, for not taking more interest in campus sports, but how 
can we work to the best advantage when we have no athletic 

A few years ago the College authorities forbade our playing 
inter-collegiate games, and we submitted as best we could. 
They told us to play among ourselves, but not even to enter- 
tain the idea of playing with other colleges. It was' a hard 
blow to our spirits to sacrifice such pleasure, but we took it 
philosophically and applied ourselves to our studies with 


unabated zeal. Since inter-collegiate games have been taken 
from us, little interest has been taken in athletics. The reason 
is plain and logical; we have no grounds to play on. Since 
the College was founded we have played baseball on private 
property. The erection of houses on the old ball ground 
has forced us to hunt for another place. We have plenty of 
ground if it was only fixed. But college boys do not like to 
spend their money on improving property that they can 
have no interest in after a few years. If you will fix us a good 
ball ground, we could better afford to forego the pleasures 
of inter-collegiate games in the less attractive class games; 
yet they are none the less beneficial and attractive in so far 
as they go. 

In order to be permitted to take part in any of the games, 
we must pay a fee. Though this fee is small in comparison 
to the advantages one derives when he is an active member, 
yet the thought of paying — no matter how little — shuts out 
a large per cent, of the students who would otherwise take 
an active part. We have a fairly well equipped gynmasium 
where good work can be done, but the membership is small, 
and very little interest is taken in it. The students are not 
free from censure; they could encourage athletics, should they 
take a proper interest in them, but as I have said, they are 
confined within too small Hmits, and those that are denied 
them are too unfavorable to attract the students as a whole. 
Should those in authority take an interest in the College's 
athletics, they could not help but see the need of better grounds 
and act accordingly. 

The day has not yet arrived when athletics can be elim- 
inated from college life without serious and permanent hurt 
to the institution. The mental and physical faculties must 
be trained together and in unison. When the one develops 
at the expense of the other the perfect man (in a limited sense) 
is lacking, but when the two are in perfect harmony the best 
results are attained. Too many of us are apt to forget this, 
and consequently are unable to appreciate our position. If 
athletics are to be argued as a good rather than an evil, why 


confine them to the campus? I readily admit that they can 
be carried to an excess hl\;e any other good thing, but by proper 
and wise regulations this evil — if an evil — can be remedied. 

One of the chief objections to inter-collegiate games, so 
far as I could learn, was the brutal features connected with 
them, especially in foot ball. The new game has ehminated 
these rough features and no serious objection can be raised 
against it now. As to the objection raised by some that it 
takes the student's mind off his studies, I can only say that 
it is more of a popular belief than a reality; instead of de- 
moralizing the student it edifies him. 

It may not be encouraging or even pleasant to the college 
man to insinuate that he was influenced to a great extent to 
attend college where athletics were encouraged, but it is never- 
theless true. The boy, as a general rule, chooses from a 
number of colleges the one he would like best to attend, and 
he usually has his choice if his parents have no special ob- 
jections. If he is inclined to athletics, like most boys, he 
will select the school which gives the greatest opportunities 
in this line. All of which goes to show that the boy must 
have athletics in some form. Then why not give them a 
fair showing, give them suitable grounds to play on and let 
them try their strength and skill with the boys of other in- 
stitutions? You do not fear the outcome, do you? If you 
do, you certainly have no reason to fear, for have they not 
shown their ability and won the name of "clean players"? 

You may think the games are rough, and that your deli- 
cate son, or your friend's son, will get his rosy face scratched 
or his lily fingers twisted— but if this is your idea of protecting 
such feminine specimens, you had better send them to some 
girls' seminary or place them in some private school where 
the rough boys will not hurt them. The college, where manly 
boys go is no place for them and their absence or presence will 
not affect in the least the college standing. There is nothing 
more refreshing and exhilarating than a game of ball or tennis. 
But when you take away from the players the right to play 
with boys of other colleges, half the pleasure and interest 



in the game is gone. This is a natural and true feeling, for 
there is nothing more conducive to the interest or spirit with 
which a boy takes hold of a thing than competition. 

Since we are denied the pleasure to play games with col- 
leges, do not lose interest in the games and let your spirit 
droop, but let each do his part in developing athletics here, 
and a certain amount of interest will attach itself to these 
games. If you are not inclined to play baseball, you can 
join the tennis club and see what the boys have done in im- 
proving the court. Grieving over what might have been will 
not help matters any; on the contrary, it will make you more 
dissatisfied with what is. Let us improve the opportunities 
we have and may be before our energies are exhausted and our 
enthusiasm dies out, those in charge will come to our rescue 
and give us what we desire. 

The Annual this year is going to be a great 
The College improvement on the one gotten out last year, 
Annual. both in quantity and quality. This is not meant 
as a reflection on last year's issue, for it will 
compare favorably with those of other institutions that have 
equal standing. We were new or unfamiliar with the work 
last year, but we have that experience to begin with, together 
with a competent and efficient staff. The plans have been all 
made and a large per cent, of the work done. 

The Annual can only be made a success by the hearty 
co-operation of the entire student body. Do not thmk because 
you are a lower class man you cannot aid in the accomplishment 
of its end. Your aid is just as real and as essential as that 
of the higher class men, and it is the duty of us all to do what 
we can for each will be judged to a great extent by its success. 
Some of us may be able to contribute in several ways, and 
all of us can in one way. 

The cost of publishing the Annual will be a great deal 
more this year than last, but the price will be only fifty cents 
more. None of you can afford to leave here without carrying 
one or more copies with you. It wiU make a handsome and 


appropriate present and would be appreciated by anyone. In 
thus subscribing to the Annual you are making the publication 
possible. You cannot get out an annual without money, and 
plenty of it. 


± ± 

R. B. CARR, Editor. 

Exams! Exams! ! Exams! ! ! 

Dr. A. A. Kern, J. L. and C. L. Neill, J. A. McKee, H. F. 
Magee, 0. Backstrom and J. C. Rousseaux attended the In- 
ternational Students Conference held at Nashville the first 
of the month. 

The Freshmen will speak on March 21 for representative 
places on the Freshman contest, which will take place some- 
time during the commencement exercises. 

(Prof. and Mrs. Morrison, of Belhaven, entertained the 
Senior classes of Belhaven and Millsaps at a Valentine party 
on the night of February 14.^ It is useless to say tlie Millsaps 
boys enjoyed themselves, as they always enjoy such events 
at Belhaven. 

Joe Baker is sick at present. It is not known whether his 
sickness was brought about by the late examination in Geology 
or by the approaching examinations. 

On Saturday night, March 3, the members of the Kappa 
Sigma fraternity were entertained in a most delightful manner 
by Miss M. H. Robertson. 

Mr. R. P. Jordan, a member of the Freshman class, died 
on February 20 from an attack of pneumonia. Mr. Jordan 
had been sick only a few days and his death was quite a shock 
to the student body. His remains were carried to Enterprise 
for interment. 


Thirteen members of the Sophomore class spoke before 
the Faculty on March 7. Although an unlucky number, eight 
of the thirteen were selected to represent the class at Com- 
mencement. They are, Jeff Collins, C. H. Kirkland, W. F. 
Murrah, J. M. Hand, W. S. Ridgway, C. R. Nolan, B. F. Witt 
and J. C. Rousseaux. 


The United States in the Twentieth Century. 

By Pierre Leroy-Beaulieu. 
(Translated by H. Addington Bruce.) 

A brief outline of the contents will best show the vast 
range of this "masterly exposition of the forces which have 
co-operated to place the United States first among the world's 
The Country and the People — Characteristics of the People, 

Immigration, The Negro Problem, Increase in Population, 

Rural America — Natural Conditions, Ownership, Agriculture, 

Irrigation, Distribution of Products, etc. 
Industrial America — How American Industry is Organized, 

Leading Industries, etc. 
Commercial America — Railways, Foreign Trade, The Merchant 

Marine, Commercial Relations, etc. 

Comparison naturally arises between this author, Byrce, 
and De Tocqueville. 

Bryce was a statesman. Leroy-Beaulieu is an economist 
and he shows a remarkable understanding, not only of the 
economic, but of the social and political resources of our 
country. He differs from De Tocqueville in that the latter 
had a theory to prove — democracy — and looked at every- 
thing from that point of view. Leroy-Beaulieu, on the other 


hand, is a scientific observer, and as such has given us a most 
valuable volume of facts and statistics. 

More than one critic has pronounced his book the most 
noteworthy work on the United States since the publica- 
tion of the well known Bryce's "American Commonwealth." 

One of the most interesting chapters is the one dealing 
with trusts. As their hurtfulness to our industry is brought 
out, some might think the author pessimistic. Yet much 
hope is given us by the statement that "combinations" do 
not, nor will in future, play the role in American industry 
attributed to them. And although in the preface, it is ac- 
knowledged that new ones have been formed since the book 
was written (in 1904), we are told that the attempt to monop- 
olize a great industry and control prices will fail unless it 
receives direct or indirect governmental aid. 

As to the race question the writer says: "How shall 
the question raised by the presence of these 9,000,000 negroes, 
and especially bv their concentration in the extreme South, 
be answered?" 

His answer is that, doubtless, education can assist in 
solving the problem, but it is vain to hope that the negro 
will be raised in a few years, or even generations, to the culture 
which our ancestors required centuries to acquire. If this 
could be done, it would prove the inferiority, not of the black 
race, but of ours — which we should not willingly admit, and 
which would assuredly seem paradoxical. And that in truth, 
there is no definite solution of a problem which doubtless 
must cause much trouble. "Its existence," says Beauheu, 
"is a barrier to immigration into one of the richest sections 
of the country, and shackles progress. It is the punishment 
of slavery." 

He considers the railroad so important a factor in our 
development that if it did not exist, three-fourths of the 
United States would be little more than desert and scarcely 
more influential in the economic life of the world than was 
Siberia before the construction of the Trans-Siberian railway. 

After many statistics on freight and passenger rates, 


he says the prosperity of the American railway system and 
the excellence of the service is undeniable. That if one wished 
model railroading methods, "it would be wise to turn to those 
practiced under the free American system, not to those illus- 
trated by a system operated under the debilitating control 
of the state." 

After reading this history of twentieth century America, 
we see that its author is not only an economist and scientific 
observer, but also a pronounced anti-socialist. 

The preface is modest and very complimentary to our 
country. He says that moral worth has contributed fully 
as much as our great resources to the brilliant success of 
America. That the most impressive of our qualities is untiring 
energy, the development of which is accomplished only through 
liberty. "Every restriction on liberty, with however good 
a purpose, diminishes the sentiment of individual responsi- 
bility and initiative. Yet we often hear mooted in America, 
as elsewhere, measures which, under the pretext of correcting 
abuses, would immeasurably extend the state's sphere of 
action and reduce the liberty of the citizens. It is the author's 
earnest hope that the American democracy will reject such 
enervating proposals and will remain true to the virile and 
liberal traditions that have ensured the United States so 
wonderful a growth." 


-♦- -♦- 

^ W A. Williams, Editor. ^ 

The "Randolph Macon Monthly" has just come to our 
desk. In it we find some excellent stories. The writers have 
their plots well in hand, and develop them finely. "Lindys 
Repentance" is a very good story, although its plot is not 
very deep; it is well written, and shows that the writer is 
well acquainted with that dialect. The aritcle "American 
Student Life in Germany," is very interesting and instructive. 
I think that more of our college magazines should edit more 


of these articles. If this were done, we would reap more 
benefit in reading them. As a whole, this magazine is credit- 
ably written and deserves honor. 

"The Emory and Henry Era" is a well arranged mag- 
azine. It contains several poems, and one especially deserves 
credit, viz.: "To a Derelict Friend." But the others are 
short and breezy. The plots need to be developed more fully. 
The Exchange department, although it is the most difficult 
to supply, is well edited. 

In reading the "College Reflector," I find it to be the 
best that we have received this session from them. It con- 
tains some well written stories. The author of "Elder George, 
the College Eccentric," shows her power of description, which 
is the principle part in story writing. There is also an edito- 
rial on "Jacking" in the magazine which deserves credit. 
The writer has the right view upon this. It lies only in the 
power of the whole student body to abolish this low and 
degrading practice which has infested so many of our colleges. 
There are other articles in this magazine that deserves mention 
but we will not discuss them now. 

"The Blue and Bronze" is a very interesting mag an e 
this month. The contributions are well developed though 
very short. The Editorial department is among the best 
that has reached our desk this season. We congratulate 
"The Blue and Bronze" on having such an excellent editor. 

We are glad to welcome to our desk the "Kendall Col- 
legian." This is a very good magazine, but it is lacking in 
some of its departments. 

No game was ever worth a rap 

For rational man to play 
Into which no accident, no mishap, 

Could possibly find its way. — Ex. 



Little Minutes. 
Little minutes, idly spent, 

Why do you moan so sadly? 
Crying, crying, all the time. 
Preventing thought, or word, or rhyme. 
You ever remind of my awful crime 

In murdering you so gladly. 
In the dark of the night, 
In the dawn, or the glow 
Of the sun's fading light, 
You ever remind of my awful crime 

In murdering you so gladly. 


If Eve had been as 

'Fraid of snakes. 

As women are 

Of mice; 
We'd not have had to 
Pull up stakes 

And move from 

Paradise. — Ex. 

'Sambo, what's you doin' these daj^s?" 

'Vse an oculist in er hotel." 

'You don't mean it?" 

'Yes, I cuts the eyes out of the potatoes." — Ex. 

Perhaps these little jokes are old, 

And should be on the shelf. 
If you can do it better. 

Send in a few yourself. — Ex. 

A daring theft Jack wrought last night 

On darling little Rose; 
He stole the thing he wanted 

Beneath her very nose. — Ex. 


Tommy — "Mamma, if a boy is a lad and has a stepfather, 
is the lad a step-ladder?" 

Tommy — "What is the guest of honor at a dinner?" 
John — "He's the fellow what gets both drumsticks of 
the chicken." — Ex. 

'Tis better to dig and bust 
Than never to dig at all. — Ex. 

We gratefully acknowledge the receipt of the following 
February magazines: Emory Phoenix, Castle Heights Herald, 
The Ohve and Blue, The Reveille, Blue Mountain College 
Magazine, The Academy Girl, Mississippi College Magazine, 
The Spectator, Monroe College Monthly, The Randolph- 
Macon Monthly, The Review and Bulletin, The College Reflector 
The Tattler, Ouachita Ripples, The Andrew College Journal, 
The High School Banner, The Columbia Collegian, The Hill- 
man Lesbidelian, The Whit worth Clionian, University of 
Mississippi Magazine, The Oracle, The Academian, The Ken- 
dall Collegian. 


± ± 

E. C. McGILVRAY, Editor. 

Responsibility involves every rational being. Though 
often ignored, it is ever present, making its presence man- 
ifest to the individual conscience. By it men and nations 
are induced to act and do as they would never have done 
had they been left unrestrained to pursue their own personal 
desires and ambitions. 

Responsibility is equally binding on the rich and the 
poor, on the high and the low, on the genius and the mediocre, 
on the learned and the unlearned. But it is far more reaching 
in its consequences when applied to college men and women. 


Some one has said that of the college graduates, one-third 
never reached to any degree of prominence; one-third 
died from overwork and ill health, and that the other third 
ruled the world. This being the case, the responsibility 
of the college man is a great one. It might seem at times 
that there is too much expected of college boys. But, when 
viewed from the right standpoint, it is but natural and right. 
For they are at the right age to do something. They can 
work with greater ease while their ideals are high and their 
hopes are great. This is a time when boys will do their best. 
They are willing to take the risk of failure in order to shun 
the taking of their turn in the old routine way for position and 

Together with the various obligations of church, state 
and home, there is an obligation which all students owe to 
their college. This is overlooked to a great extent by some 
students. They overlook the fact that their Alma Mater 
expects to keep pace with the times. They even fail to keep 
in touch with their college after they go out into active life. 
College life and college questions do not seem to interest 
them at all. They loose tliemselves, especially when there 
is a new movement on foot which is liable to call on them. 
So the movement is for a ball ground. Now is the time for 
us and all our friends to make our appearance. The need 
of an athletic park can not be questioned. There has been 
some plans made to grade a part of the campus for a ball 
ground. But in order to prepare the ground as it should be, 
it would detract from the beauty of the campus. So it is 
almost necessary that the college should have some addi- 
tional land for a park. This should be the next issue before 
us. So let every Millsaps man plan for a park while there 
is some available land. For it is but a question of time until 
it will be practically impossible to secure any ground outside 
of the campus. Every one expects the college to grow, and 
nothing will add more to the college at present than a good 
athletic park. To get it, it is necessary for the old men, 
new men, alumni, faculty and all concerned to get into the 


movement. This is the only way to get the ball park, and 
a ball park will stimulate athletics at Millsaps more than 
anything else that can be done. Then let me add, this is 
the work of the alumni and students. They are RESPONSI- 
BLE for it. 

The Alumni had better lay low if the places marked 
"spot" in their old books are not what we need on the exam- 
inations next week. 

0, just to be in school again, 
And in a careless way, 
Drop one or two short lines to pa, 
And get a check next day. 

0. S. Lewis, '03, came through the other day on his way 
to Nashville. Osborn has charge of the Braxton High School 
in connection with his ministerial work at Mendenhall. Some 
wonder why he goes to Port Gibson. He answers all questions; 
will he answer this one? 

T. V. Simmons was a pleasant caller last week. He 
is still resting on laurels won in his Sophomore >ear. He 
aimed to spend an hour or so with us, but stayed until eleven 
the next day. He says that he is rushing the girls, but he 
is just trying to fool us. Voltaire, you are indeed happy 
and free. So take life easy. 

Happy am I; from care I'm free; 
Why aren't they all content like me?" 




The Jones Drug Stores 

West Jackson and Up town. 


308 W. Capitol Street. 


Your patronage solicited. 

F" TLJ R is: 1 T ILJ t^ E 



315 S. State Street. 


Special Prices Made to College Students and Societies. 
CALL TO SEE US. 313 S. State Street 

Phone 380. JACKSON, MISS 


Vol. 8. Jackson, Miss., April, J 906. No. 6. 


In the spring of '98 there was, as perhaps every one re- 
members, a great overflow in the delta section, which resulted 
very disastrously to all. Farms were destroyed, houses 
washed away, and in many instances human lives were lost. 
Transportation and communication of every kind were prac- 
tically impossible except by water. The government, how- 
ever, kept up the mail service by means of boats, and the 
railroads made heroic efforts to resume operation, but were 
successful only in places. They kept "extra gangs" working 
day and night. At this time one of the "gangs" in charge 
of Foreman Thomas was located at "M. C," a small station 
on the V. Y. R. R. They were at work on a trestle that spanned 
what was usually a small stream, but was now a torrent. 
The water threatened to wash the trestle away at any time, 
thus cutting off the weekly relief train that carried supplies 
out of "X. N." over that part of the road. 

Foreman Thomas was a married man, and kept his family 
on the camp cars with him, and being a favorite of the Road- 
master's, he was allowed an extra car for their convenience. 
As Mrs. Thomas was a well educated woman, their daughter, 
Hilda, a beautiful young girl of perhaps seventeen, did not 
suffer materially for want of educational training. 

Hilda was quite a favorite with the "gang," and the 
flower of her father's heart, and she, being of a romantic dis- 
position, was thoroughly fascinated with this mode of living. 

It chanced that the operator had to be relieved from 
duty for a few weeks at this time, and as the company was 
unable to secure another man, they took Walter Reynolds 
off of his run as flagman and sent him to "M. C." Walter 
had learned telegraphy when a youth, but had never followed 
it as a profession, preferring the transportation department 
instead. When he was asked to go to "M. C." he readily con- 
sented, for he was an ardent admirer of Hilda, and knew 


that her father's camps were located there. Walter and 
Hilda had never had a formal introduction, but knew each 
other by sight. She would often tantalize him by throwing 
kisses at him when he waved at her from his train. 

As there was no other convenient place in town Walter 
took his meals at the camp cars, and in this way he was thrown 
with Hilda a great deal. However, he was not with her as 
much as he would have liked, for Mr. Thomas not only re- 
garded him unkindly, but also looked with suspicion upon 
any one that he thought was in love with Hilda. However, 
he made good use of his time, and in a very short while had 
won her heart and the conditional promise of her hand. 
Hilda told him that, although he was very dear to her, she 
could not marry against her father's wishes, and that he would 
have to win the good will of her father. 

It was just at this time that the regular operator returned, 
which served only to complicate matters. Walter did not 
wish to leave just yet, nor did Hilda want him to go. So 
the two evolved the plan of Walter's disguising himself as 
a day laborer, and applying to her father for work, and to 
make it safe he decided to go on the night shift. 

This worked effectually for awhile, but soon the night 
work and exposure began to cause Walter's health to fail, 
and they decided to disclose their secret. Hilda went to her 
mother and explained all, but Mrs. Thomas told her that she 
had, with womanly instinct, guessed the secret. She prom- 
ised to try to win Mr. Thomas over, but in this she failed, 
for when the subject was mentioned to him he became very 
angry, and threatened to send Walter away. He finally 
relented on this point, however, but forbade him ever speaking 
to Hilda again. Though he disliked Walter perosnally, he 
could not help admiring him for his ability and willingness 
to work. The water was gradually washing away the embank- 
ment around the trestle, and Walter had on more than one 
occasion devised plans to keep it from immediate collapsing. 

On a certain afternoon after the disclosure of their secret, 
Walter requested of Hilda a private tete-a-tete for that night, 
to which she readily consented, for despite the protests of her 
father their meetings were as frequent as ever. At the ap- 
pointed time she met him in front of her car door. They 
sat down on the end of the "X-ties" and Walter, taking her 
hand in his, began to plead with her to elope with him, ex- 
plaining to her that it seemed utterly impossible to win her 
father's approval of their marriage. His plan of elopement 


was this: They could board the relief train that was due 
at 10 o'clock and go to "X. N." making connection with the 
main line in to "D. S." But Hilda would not agree to this, 
and reiterated her wish of not marrying against her father's 
will. Walter then told her of his intention of returning to 
his run as flagman, and after a formal leave-taking reached 
over and kissed her. 

It so happened that Mr. Thomas appeared on the scene 
just at this time, and he was in a very angry mood, for he 
had just left the presence of his wife, who had been trying to 
persuade him to give his consent to Hilda's marriage. When 
the above spectacle met his" eyes, he flew into a perfect rage 
and giving vent to his anger, was about to hurl himself on 
Walter when one of the men on the night shift ran up and 
told him that the trestle had washed away. For a time 
this filled him with consternation, and railroad man that he 
was, his thoughts immediately flew to the approaching train 
that was due in a few hours. The thought of a probable catas- 
trophe almost maddened him, and jerking up his lantern, he 
hurried off to the washout. 

Meanwhile, Walter, who had conceived the idea that 
perhaps if he could avert a catastrophe, Mr. Thomas might 
yet give his consent to Hilda's marriage, had gone by the 
depot, forced the door open, and tried for several minutes 
to "raise" the operator at "H. S.," but being unsuccessful, 
he went down to view the washout. After carefully noting 
the situation he very soon realized that whatever was done 
must be done quickly and alone, for the crowd was too ex- 
cited to render any assistance. Numerous schemes suggested 
themselves to his mind as to how he could cross this raging 
torrent. He finally adopted the following plan: 

After a close examination he observed that a few yards 
below the washout the main current ran diagonally across 
instead of following the middle of the stream. This, of course, 
was caused by the debris of the fallen trestle. He then threw 
several small sticks into the water at this point and discovered 
the fact that the current, in its diagonal course carried them 
within a few feet of the opposite bank before they turned 
back to the middle of the stream. He reasoned that if this 
were true with the sticks, two or three "X-ties" fastened 
together would, since their weight was much greater, be car- 
ried close enough to the opposite side to allow him to jump 
off on the bank. 


No sooner was the plan conceived than he prepared 
to put it into execution. In a very short time he had the 
"X-ties" tied together and placed in the water. He first 
fastened them to the bank unitl he was prepared for the ven- 
ture. Then, after securing a red lantern and placing himself 
on the ties, he cut them loose. It was a perilous undertaking 
for the current bore them across the stream with tremendous 
speed, and the least mishap would mean death. But soon 
the crowd, which had been breathlessly awaiting the outcome, 
gave a cry of triumph: "He is safely across." 

The moment the "X-ties" touched the opposite side 
Walter jumped off on the bank, and hurried down the track 
to flag the approaching train, while the "X-ties" were borne 
down stream. 

He had gone only a few hundred yards before the train 
rounded the curve, but he had ample time to flag it, thus 
averting a wreck. Walter at once was the hero of the hour, 
and when the officials of the road were apprised of his deed, 
they wired him their thanks and congratulations, and in- 
structed him to report for duty as local conductor. Walter 
served efficiently in this capacity for a number of years. His 
highest hopes were realized when his charming little wife 
Hilda, meeting him at the front door one afternoon, handed 
him a letter instructing him to report at once for duty as pas- 
senger conductor. 

Bert, '08. 


Last summer while refugeeing from the yellow fever, 
I came in contact with a phase of negro nature that amused 
me greatly. 

The crops were all "laid by," and there was nothing to 
do except a few odd jobs around the place at morning and 
night. This left "Tim," a young negro with too much idle 
time on his hands, and the result was he got into mischief. 
What he did doesn't matter, but he knew he had laid himself 
liable to the law; therefore, one of their protracted meetings 
being at hand, he thought it behooved him to get religion. 
The sherift' was usually lenient towardfe new converts. Up 
to this time Tim's part in these meetings had consisted in 
banking some thicket crap game and playing the good Samar- 
itan to his "thirsty" brethren by means of exilir carried in jugs. 

Now Tim realized that he had reached the limit of this 


sort of activity; the authorities had "caught on to" his double 
role. He felt the need of the cloak of religion. Early in 
the course of the meeting mourners were called and to the 
surprise of all Tim pressed forward among the first. This 
sight brought "Hallelujahs" from the "perfessors" and groans 
of wonder from the ungodly. In the frenzy of excitement 
Tim's mother, a great fat woman, threw herself shouting, 
into the arms of the "Sliding Elder," who, being a small man 
and not braced for such an encounter, was instantly eclipsed. 
This catastrophe only helped to inspire the congregation to 
further and louder expressions of their emotions. 

Tim did not choose to "mourn" long, and soon responded 
with a yell to the interest in his case; louder than his mother's 
rang out his "Hosannas." 

But merely to profess was not enough for Tim. He 
courted the notoriety of a trance. Falling forward he at 
once lapsed into rigidity. He might have been a wooden man 
so motionless he lay. Now to have experienced a religious 
trance distinguished a country negro for all time. By some 
he is regarded with veneration, and by others with jealousy. 
Tim's mother foresaw that even she would hereafter be a fa- 
mous woman, and Tim, deep in his trance, was aware that 
he was pleasing her. 

"Old Cabe," Tim's father, however, was built of other 
stuff. He did not shout much, but for several years he had 
been held in high esteem by his white neighbors by reason 
of his genuine conversion. It was Cabe's theory l:hat a big 
sinner must be longer in "comin' through" than Tim had been, 
and he went forward to investigate. 

"Son, "he said, leaning over Tim, "is you sho' got de 

No answer from Tim. 

"Don't 'suit de Sperrit, bruder," solemnly interposed the 

"His eyes is seein' de glorj^ ob de Lawd," put in the 
"Shding Elder." 

Cabe grunted, for no one knew better than he how wicked 
his son had been. But he said no more. 

After the service Tim's devoted friends carried him out 
into the open air, and proceeded to sing, pray and rejoice 
over him, after which they expected to carry him back into 
the church. As a motive for excitement, Tim would thus 
last some time, and excitement is the life of a negro revival. 
After a time the religious element, being wearied with their 


exertions, withdrew to refresh themselves. This gave certain 
of Tim's incredulous mates a chance to investigate the real 
bodily state of their erstwhile boon companion. They threw 
water on him, twisted his kinky hair, and belabored him 
generally, but Tim remained as inert as a log. 

"I knows what'll fetch him," said one. 

"Talk fas' den," some one answered. "Dem shouters'll 
be back terrectly, lessen dey got mo' grub dan what I tink." 

After a hurried consultation they picked him up and 
carried him into a near-by thicket. 

"Is yo' sho' dat hornet nes' is loaded? Ef tain't, I know 
whas deys a was' nes' bigger dan my hat," said one. 

His mother arriving at this instant, viewed with aston- 
ishment the empty spot where she had left Tim. 

"De Lawd hav' sho carried my boy off lak Elijah— 
I wisht I cud a seen dat fiery cha'iot." Then remembering 
herself, she gave a loud shout and fell over in a dead faint. 

The afternoon service found a solemn and subdued con- 
gragetion. Never before had a person in a trance been trans- 
ported. Emotion was running so high that there promised 
to be a fine crop of trances. The perspiring preacher called 
for mourners without the preliminary of a sermon. 

Things were getting just warm when out of the woods 
issued a dreadful howl, and Tim burst into the church covered 
with an enormous bunch of hornets! The nature of his ad- 
vent startled the mourners and it needed but that Tim should 
shake off a few of his assailants among them to create a real 
stampede. Louder than ever rang Hosannas in that church 
were the yells and execrations of the congregation, among 
whom the angr^^ hornets liberally distributed themselves. 
That congregation dispersed without any benediction, and 
Tim's glorv was gone forever. 

J. B. H., '09. 


A cold November night. The falling snow rapidly covers 
the street and like a magician, changes the black ground 
to a dazzling white. The strong northern wind blows fiercely 
and produces an unpleasant whistle among the naked trees, 
which stand stretched out in a straight line along the street. 
Not a living soul can be seen on this cold, dark and dreary 
night! Only the lighted windows of the beautiful stone build- 
ings, which border the streets on both sides show that there 


is life inside, and the human beings enjoy the warmth and 
comfort of their fire-sides, not caring at all for the single passer- 
by who has just appeared on the corner of the street. 

He is an old man, and his large, white beard is full of snow. 
Slowly he walks on, trying to protect his poorly clad body 
from the violent wind by keeping close to the walls. Some- 
thing which is carefully wrapped up in a black cloth, can be 
seen under his right arm. More close attention will tell you 
that it is a violin — yes, it is his old and truest friend — his 
violin. Together with him it has been wandering through 
all his life, experiencing the sudden and various caprices of 
his fate. Together with him it has been enjoying the days 
of his fame, and together with him it has been sharing the days 
of his poverty and misfortune. And yet it is more reliable 
and true than any human friend. 

A fierce gust of wind which penetrates the ragged clothes 
of the old man, brings him to a halt. He stops for a moment 
to catch his breath, and then walks on further, but the fierce- 
ness of the wind increases and the weary, frozen limbs of the 
old man refuse to serve him. A few more staggering steps, 
and the sufferer sits down on the ground, turning his back 
to the wind. He unbuttons his coat and with much care 
and love, puts his violin against his heart. It seems to him 
that the nearness of the violin sends a pleasant warmth through 
all his veins. He closes his weary eyehds and an old by-gone 
scene vividly arises before him. 

He stands upon a stage, and before him stretches a large 
over-crowded hall, which is covered by a haze. The signal 
bell rings, telling him that it is time to ,begin. Slowly he 
lifts up the bow and plays. The violin produces heavenly 
tunes, which hypnotizes the audience, and fill the air, soon 
floating away and giving place to new tunes and melodies. 
He closes his eyes, trusting all to his violin. He performs only 
the mechanical part of the playing, moving the bow up and 
down the strings. He himself listens attentively with all 
his soul to the wonderful melody of his viohn. It is an old 
experienced violin, and it feels that tonight the musician 
must either win or lose the love and praise of the audience, 
and it plays wonderfully. And when the last sound had 
died away, and the crowd before him had loudly expressed 
his success by cheers and applause, he knew that it was not 
his success, but the success of his violin. Since then he became 
the most intimate friend with his violin. Now they were 
both old, worn out and tired of life, but their friendship is 


still young. , how he loves his old friend — his violin ! Tighter 
and tighter he presses the violin to his heart; lower and lower 
bends his head upon his chest. 

X X X X 

On the next morning the old wandering musician was 
found dead under a pile of snow. His stiff, frozen arms 
were tightly embracing a violin and pressing it to his chest. 

M. Strom. 


Nick Cooper had gone from the gulf to enter the college 
at the Capital of his State. Now it seems that inter-colle- 
giate games had been unknown in that college, save at one 
time in the long ago. He had found everything in the College 
active but athletics. The Conferences, he had learned, had 
long ago voted down the proposition of games with the other 
colleges. Debates and oratorical contests had always been 
favored. Athletics had long been in the tomb — as if men 
are not just as liable to become over-enthusiastic after an 
intellectual victory or over- despondent after an intellectual 
defeat, as they are after a physical victory or physical defeat. 

But Nick's freshman year was destined to witness a great 
change in the management of the College — a change that 
was destined to make history for it, to increase its growth, 
and give it a wider fame. One Friday night the students 
had drawn up in the Literary Societies a petition to the two 
Conferences owning and operating the College, that they con- 
sider this proposition again, and that only college men among 
the preachers vote on it; "for," reasoned the students, "how 
can men know the advantages or the disadvantages or inter- 
collegiate games when a great many of them are not college 
men and have not experienced what college spirit is?" This 
appeal had been sent to the Conferences; the voters had de- 
cided it in favor of the petitioners. The glad tidings had been 
announced in the Chapel. Two hundred men had gone wild! 
No orator had ever been cheered as that decision had been. 

As a result of this, great plans had been arranged. The 
gymnasium had been enlarged. The athletic field had been 
leveled off as if by the power of Aladdin's lamp. Enthusiasm 
was great. The foot-ball season was over when the petition 
had been sent to the Conferences. Therefore preparation 
was made to play baseball. 


As soon as the College nearest by had learned that the 
College over the way had been given new privileges, they 
forthwith sent a deputation— a challenge by mail was not 
sufficient — and that deputation presented the challenge to 
the manager of the gymnasium while he was smoking his 
meerschaum. A meeting of the leaders accepted the challenge 
and the first Saturday in May was the day set. 

Nick had gained the esteem and the friendship of Jackson, 
the manager. He had worked hard to get on the team and 
had denied himself many things. But it was soon revealed 
to him that he could not make the team — this year, at least. 
And as Jackson had often slapped him on the back with, 
"Never mind, old man, you'll get it next year!" he was con- 
tent to be classed as a "Sub." 

The Friday before the game Jackson was walking around' 
for a little recreation and passed along the row of "shacks" 
back of the Science Hall. In the fifth one was Nick's room, 
and the manager turned into it. He came stamping up 
the steps, and long before he had reached the door, he said: 
"Open up. Prep! what you doin'?" The friends were soon 
talking about the game of the morrow, and when the man- 
ager arose to go, he said in a sort of careless way: "Say, I 
want you to be at the depot in the morning at eight. My 
little brown-eyed cousin is coming to see the game." 

In every heart there are ambitions unspoken; what the 
soul feels most in times of critical moment it hugs to itself, 
and is satisfied with trying to see visions become real in the 
future, and with imagining itself exulting in its victory and 
success. Within the sacred precincts of man's mind at this 
time let no one enter. He is alone with himself, though 
he may be in the midst of confusion. He bears his own bur- 
dens. There may be, however, possible exceptions to this 
rule. One of these is when the man has some very dear friend 
in whom he can confide. To that one he may, if very san- 
guine, tell his hopes. But where men are strangers to him, 
he keeps his secrets to himself. This was the situation of 
Nick before the game on that Saturday afternoon. There 
was one in that great crowd to whom it would have been 
a joy for him to tell what he wanted to do, and to ask her 
sympathy. It was the manager's cousin who had long been 
a friend to him in his home town and whom he had seen for 
only a moment at the station. 

In the first part of the game a man had been injured 
on Nick's side. A man was sent to size up the ability of 


the substitutes and he finally called to Nick to get ready 
for work. He looked back over his shoulder upon the vast 
sea of faces in the grand stand in search of the manager and 
his cousin who had come to see the game. But his search 
was in vain. So he went forward in a run to take the place 
assigned to him. 

It is not my purpose to describe minutely the great 
game that was played that day before so many enthusiasts. 
The die had been cast. Nick was in for the whole game. 
He set his teeth and began in earnest. Wliat seemed to be 
done so easily was really the work of skilled and tireless work- 
men. Two great teams were contesting, whose skill and 
swiftness were practically equal. It was the first inter-col- 
legiate game that one of the colleges had held in many a session. 
Their men were especially anxious to win, for they wanted 
to start out with a good beginning. The other college was 
animated by the victories of the past. They would not for 
the world permit their opponents to win. This first game 
was a very hard one for Nick's college. With the very high- 
est enthusiasm the men yelled and waved their penants. 
But Nick's team lost! What a shock it was to the fellows 
who had won so many times in oratory. Wliy could they not 
win on the field as well as on the platform? With depressed 
feeling they saw the victors borne from the diamond. 

But the men from Nick's College were not weighed com- 
pletely down with their sacks "of meal" and they gave their 
old yells once again. However, there was one of the nine 
who hfted not his voice, raised not even his head from his 
bosom. It was Nick! He had played earnestly, but he had 
been the cause of the defeat of his team. Men had pointed 
the finger at him and told him so. He was conscious himself 
that he had made blunders. And he was glad now that 
he had not seen Jackson and his brown-eyed cousin when he 
had looked for them in that crowd in the grand stand. 

Without a word to any one he made his way through 
the tlirong of people and went rapidly as he could to his room. 
He divested himself of his athletic suit and was soon in his 
college attire. He sat down upoii his trunk and thought. 
And what sore thoughts they were! "To think the game 
might have been ours had I been able to play better! Now 
at the first we have lost! Wliat will my friend, the manager 
say to me? Alas, how disappointed will be his brown-eyed 
cousin!" Nick arose and paced up and down the floor. What 
could he do to drown his disappointment and remove the 


regret gnawing at his heart! Unconsciously he began fum- 
bhng through the leaves of a book which he had taken from 
the table. It was a volume of Poe's poems, and his eyes 
fell upon the repeated word of the Raven, "Never more." 
He thought that he should never more have the opportunity 
of proving his loyalty and raising the athletic standard of 
his College. He felt sure that the manager would advise 
him to leave the field. And now was the time, above all 
others that he desired some one to cheer him. 

Hardly knowing what he was doing, he placed the book 
back on the table, and taking his hat he left the room. Let 
us follow him as he goes in the direction of the old head-stones 
across the gully to the Jewish cemetery. He recalls the night 
when he was forced by the Sophomores to sit upon that high 
slab and tell ghost stories. That, to be sure, was against 
the grain. But now in his disappointment, he would take 
a score of such midnight hours in exchange for the hour in 
which the great blow had fallen upon him. He throws him- 
self into an old rustic seat and bends his head upon his bosom. 

For hours he sat thus. No one saw him to disturb him. 
The other men had forgotten their dismay amid the soft 
music of feminine voices. The men of Nick's college dis- 
cussed the game; they had become reconciled to their fate. 
Nick's persistent efforts to save his team from defeat had 
been the subject of conversation the whole afternoon. In 
fact there were two factions — one had believed that Nick 
was not to blame for the defeat; the other had believed that 
he was. Did Nick have any friends in the former of those 
factions? Jackson, the manager of the gymnasium, was one! 
And somehow, it cannot be said just exactly how it came 
about, he and his friends succeeded in convincing those op- 
posing Nick that be was not to blame, and that they would 
have lost anyhow. 

Jackson went to the boarding house whither his cousin 
had gone to make her toilet for the evening They were 
soon on the campus again and strolling over the hills. They 
passed along the "shacks" and looking over to the left across 
the gully they saw the white marble slabs of the Jewish cem- 
etery not far away. They agreed to visit the graves of Israel. 
Home had been the subject of their conversation. She was 
telling him messages that his sweet-heart at home had sent 
to Mm. He was careless of his surroundings. And as those 
words came from the mouth of his cousin — words of his true 


love at home, his feehngs were aroused and there shone in 
his eyes a great deep Hght. Could she fail to notice tliis? 
For her own experience had caused her to give earnestness 
to her words. That experience had been encoiu-aged when 
she had found some one else besides her cousin at the station 
to meet her. And how could the conversation keep from 
drifting to Nick? 

The two cousins had been late to the game, but had 
gotten in just after Nick had been called to duty. They 
had watched him with earnestness, and had cheered liim 
on. They had also noticed that towards the last of the game, 
when there was no chance for their victory, there had settled 
upon Nick's features a sort of grim despair. They knew of 
his regret and of the harsh things said about him after the 
game. Tliey had watched him go in silence to his room. 
And now it was agreed that Jackson should seek Nick after 
supper and bear the glad tidmgs to him of how the fellows 
were praising his efforts where hitherto they had criticized 
his actions. 

The two turned a corner of the graveled walk. Upon 
the seat where Nick was when we left him there they 
found him still. He had thrown his hat upon 
the ground; his hair was tangled and disordered. With 
his knife he was digging into the old seat. The sun was setting 
and its golden rays were glancing over his broad shoulders 
and tlirough his dark, brown hair. They stood and watched 
him in silence. When they advanced a few steps a twig 
was broken, and Nick became conscious that some one was 
near him. He raised his head slightly, thinking that he had 
heard a voice. It seemed strange, and he hesitated to look 
in the direction. 

Jackson walked up, and in a college fellow's way jerked 
Nick upon his feet. Roaring sounds passed through his dis- 
turbed mind, and in a dazed manner, he thought that the 
boys had come to settle with him for the loss of the game 
So he looked upon the ground and said without a quiver* 
"Boys, I know it was my fault! But why, oh why did they 
call me, if they knew I couldn't play?" 

"Man, come to your senses," cried Jackson, slapping 
Nick upon the back. "Who said it was your fault? We 
should have lost anyhow. The boys are not displeased 
a bit. They were mistaken; they told me so." And then 
after a pause: "Listen! They are coming now from town, 
and they are yelling, tool" 


They listened. Nick raised his head. The boys were 
giving nine "rahs" for each player. Nick waited in silence. 
Would they yell for him? The sounds came nearer, so much 
so that the names could be distinctly heard. Again the spir- 
ited shouts arose. Then heard Nick a Senior's great voice 
shouting: "Nine 'rahs' for Nick Cooper, the Freshman sub." 
Nick threw his arms around the manager' Strong as were 
both, there was moisture in the eyes of each, caused by the 
sympathy of one and the gladness of the other. They turned 
to go, but a vision confronted them. Nick's heart beat faster; 
he knew that the gladness of this moment would be com- 
plete with the presence of the manager's cousin. They looked 
into each other's eyes for only a moment. Then she held 
out her little white hand to congratulate him. He felt that 
somehow he would always remember this hour. That look 
into the depths of her eyes seemed to reveal to him that there 
would be a blissful future for them together. He hesitated 
what to say. It may be that the presence of the manager 
kept him from saying all that he desired to say. And as 
he took her hand, it was merely with, "I — thank you, Miss 
Jackson, for your cheer!" C. Ude. 


It was in the early forties that my father, a wealthy 
Memphis merchant, failed, and soon afterwards di'^d, leaving 
me, at the age of fifteen, with $1000 with which to commence 

After winding up the little business I had, I left Mem- 
phis for Richmond to work in the office of a Mr. Edwards, 
a close friend of my father's. The welcome I received from 
this kind old gentleman was genuine and sympathetic. I 
entered upon my duties with a noble determination to please 
my employer. He was pleased with my efforts, and told 
me if I stuck to my work I might hope to be a great bus- 
iness man like my father. 

Miss Annie Shaw, my employer's niece, came to Rich- 
mond to attend school. She stayed at Mr. Edward's, and 
consequently I was thrown with her a good deal. Soon 
we were devoted lovers; she fourteen and I sixteen years old. 
For two years our happiness was complete, and well do I 
remember the morning of her fifteenth birthday, when I shpped 
a beautiful little ring on her finger, a sure token of our mutual 
love and engagement. 


But when her next birthday came, I received back the 
ring with this cruel message: "This will inform you that our 
engagement is broken." After this, I soon lost interest in 
my work, and my grief soon told on me. I attended to my 
work indifferently — taking no special interest in anything. 
I determined to see Annie that very day, and fortune favored 
me in this instance. I had not long to wait, for as I came 
out of the office we stood face to face. She colored and 
made as if to pass me, but I detained her. 

"Annie, if you wish to prevent a scene, you must listen 
to what I have to say." 

"Well, be brief; you Imow how I feel." 

"I know how you should feel." 

"What do you mean?" she asked. 

"It is not for me to answer, but what did you mean by 
sending back my ring?" 

"Oh," she said, "I thouglit the message fully explained 
it," and with that she left me. 

I asked Mr. Edwards for a settlement the next morning, 
and he didn't seem much surprised, but lead me back to his 
desk, giving me a check for my full salary. I thanked him 
for his kindness, and with a choking voice told him goodbye. 

After six months wandering I fell in with a company 
of soldiers who were returning after a short but bloody skir- 
mish with Indians to Fort Washington. I joined them, 
little thinking what experiences would, in the near future, 
present themselves to me. I soon won the love and admi- 
ration of the whole fort by my reckless passion for fighting 
Indians. During this time Bob Skinny and I had become 
sworn friends. For two years this friendship had grown; 
we were attached to one another by a mutual understanding. 
One morning I saw Bob coming toward me with a meaning 
look, his eyes dancing with merriment. 

"Say, Jack, old boy, have you heard the latest news?" 

"No. Are we to have a skirmish with the red men?" 

"Not that, but I wish it was, for we haven't had a brush 
with them for a month, and I fear I will get out of practice." 

"But what about the news?" 

"Well," he says, "you know Col. Shaw has a daughter 
named Annie. They say she is a beautiful girl and has been 
at college for the past four years, leading her classes, and — " 

"Say, here. Bob, cut this short and tell me the news, 
if you have any, without all this introduction." 


"Well, if you will have it so, Miss Shaw arrives at Panes- 
ville today, to spend some time with the Colonel at the fort, 
and he wishes to speak with you. I presume he will send 
you to escort her here." 

"Heaven forbid!" I muttered. But he only glared at 
me, disdaining to heed such an exclamation. How could 
he sympathize with me, not knowing my position? 

I soon repaired to the Colonel's headquarters to receive 
his orders, and wasn't surprised to learn that I, with ten 
picked men, was to go immediately to Panesville, a distance 
of 80 miles or more, to escort his daughter to the fort. I 
felt keenly the honor conferred upon me, but would have 
given anything to be left out of this deal. Yet I could not 
ask to be relieved without offending the Colonel, and of course 
could not explain. I must face it out like a man. Three 
years of active service had browned my skin, and I had no 
fear that she would recognize me. 

We made the trip without danger, arriving at Panes- 
ville on the second day. That evening I waited on Miss Shaw, 
telling her to be ready to start by early morn. She turned 
a little pale when I introduced myself as Stuart, but recovered 
herself instantly, not dreaming I was once her lover. Every- 
thing would have been well, at least until we reached the 
Fort, if it had not been for Bob's loose tongue. I had ridden 
ahead with the advance guard, when it occurred to him to 
relate to Miss Shaw my advent into the fort. 

He is the most daring and reckless chap I ever saw," 
said Bob. "He thinks no more of danger and exposure than 
an Indian brave. I think he must have had a great sorrow 
in his life, but he won't talk much on that score.He told me 
he was left an orphan at 15, and went to work in Richmond 
with an old friend of his father's." 

"What is his name?" asked Miss Shaw. 

"Jack Stuart," said old Bob, and his face lighted up 
with enthusiasm. 

Just as he finished his narrative, I rode up and the change 
in the lady's face was a study. Surprise and I think pleasure 
was written on it, but that may have been my fancy. 

Wlien we reached the Fort I reported to the Colonel, 
who thanked me for my services. I soon retired to my quarters 
to lie awake thinking of our embarrassing position, and finally 
to fall asleep dreaming of happier days. 

A month had passed since Miss Shaw entered our busy 
little town, and once more the social functions of the town 


were to be renewed by a grand ball given by her. I received 
a little invitation penned by her own hand. The ball was 
on the night of her nineteenth birthday, and a grand success 
it was, but I could not enjoy myself for thinking of her. I 
was dancing with a pretty little brunette, trying to make 
myself agreeable, when I caught Annie's eye, and I must 
have looked my dejection. I had sworn that I would not 
ask her for a dance, although it was a breach of etiquette. 
So what must have been my feelings, when she laid her hand 
on my arm saying, "Jack, will you dance with me?" I was 
thunderstruck at her asking me, but managed to mumble 
my thanks. I do not remember much of that dance. I 
was oblivious to all about me, dancing to the mad music of 
love. My awakening was rather rude and unpleasant. 
Annie and I were seated under the old oak tree, and 
holding her hands while we talked of those happy days spent 
together in Richmond. I put the old engagement ring on her 
finger; she kissed it with a loving tenderness that made me 
forget everj^thing but that she was all to me. Such happiness 
was too real to last, for the Colonel was before us, white with 
rage before we could collect our thoughts. 

My feelings then I cannot explain. I have fought with 
fierce delight, hand to hand with Indian braves, but this 
one man unnerved me completely. I was helpless while 
he lashed me with burning words. 

Annie was the first to gain composure, and said: 
"Father, are you not pleased with our engagement?" 

The old war veteran was a little disconcerted by her tactics. 

"Engaged, indeed!" said he. "What will you do next?" 

"Get married, father," was her prompt reply, "and with 
your blessing." 

The old fellow roared and swore; said he would have me 
court-martialed if I ever spoke to her again. I became des- 
perate, fearing I might lose my darling after so many years 
of separation. 

"Oh, sir, do not blast our happiness by your refusal." 

He walked off with Annie, disgusted with me. He would 
not give his consent, but I was not court-martialed when next 
he saw me talking to her. 

X X X X 

The next spring the Indians began to give us some trouble; 
several of our boys were shot by roving bands of warriors. 
Late in May we took up the trail of a band of warriors who 
had stolen horses and cattle on a stock farm only five miles 


away. We were gone two days before we caught up with 
the marauders. Giving them a thorough thrashing and re- 
capturing the stolen horses and cattle, we turned home- 

I was despatched ahead with the news, a full twelve hours 
ride ahead of our little band. When I reached the fort I 
saw the bodies of slain Indians piled upon one another about 
the entrance. Then I looked toward the gate, but thank 
God it was closed and I saw old Bob keeping watch. 

"What means this, Bob?" and I pointed to the dead 

"Ride in, Jack," and old Bob opened the gate. "Twelve 
good men killed and Miss Annie gone." 

"Gone where, man," and I leaped from my horse. 

"She was riding to the farm yesterday to see about a 
horse her father was going to buy for her, when down swooped 
three Indians on their ponies. When she saw them she turned 
her horse toward the fort, and such a race I never saw before 
in all my life! Her hair was flying in the breeze, and she was 
riding for dear hfe! She was circling around them, and I 
believe she would have gained the fort, but just then she 
was surrounded by a whole band of saveges. They took her 
away yesterday evening after we had beaten them off." 

I thought over this while my horse was eating, and made 
up my mind to rescue her or leave my bones to bleach on some 
barren waste. I know the trail they would follow, so had 
no fear of not coming up with them, but effecting her rescue 
was what puzzled me. 

At last it was dark, and I rode through the gate in silence, 
while Bob with a "God help you, Jack," closed it behind me. 
I rode on till day break, but could neither see nor hear of 
any Indians, and I was beginning to fear I had lost the trail 
when I noticed a large pile of fresh ashes where they had 
camped the previous night. I knew it would be unsafe to 
go further yet awhile. I turned my horse loose to graze, 
and lay down for a few hours sleep. 

It was late in the afternoon before I awoke, nearly fam- 
ished; I built a little fire and broiled a piece of venison. Hav- 
ing satisfied my appetite, I saddled my horse and began the 
search. I soon came to a little creek where I noticed they 
had crossed that very day. My heart beat high with hope 
and expectation. As I neared the sleeping village everything 
seemed quiet. I hid my saddle and bridle where even the 



keen eye of an Indian could not find it, and led my horse to 
a dense thicket so he would escape their notice. 

I approached the tents with great caution, circling around 
them so as to have some idea as to Annie's tent. At last 
I noticed a large tent further separated from the others than 
usual, and I concluded that it must be the one that she oc- 
cupied. I crawled along through the weeds to one side of 
the tent and listened. I heard a soft sob near me, and at 
first thought it must be on the outside. I pushed aside the 
deer skins and in a low whisper called to Annie; she heard 
me and answered in a glad cry, "Jack." 

I placed my hand on my heart for fear the sleeping de- 
mons would hear its beatings and waken. I told her in as 
few words as possible that we must leave immediately. She 
said her horse was to the south of the tent and that she would 
meet me there in half an hour. 

I found my horse, saddled him, and repaired to the place 
of meeting. My heart beat violently as I approached, fear- 
ing she had been detained or captured. My fears were ground- 
less on that score, for I saw her as she straightened up to 
leap on her horse, and a crouching form, unmindful of my 
presence, sprang to catch her bridle rein. I knew the game 
was up or we must ride for it. I shot him as his hand caught 
the rein, and his shout with the report of the pistol aroused 
the village. 

A mad ride for life or death of fifty miles lay before us, 
and our pursuers only two hundred yards behind. Annie 
bore up well under the excitement of that dark ride. As 
day began to break, our horses were tired out, but they did 
their best. When the sun rose we were only two miles from 
the fort, but our pursuers were upon us. There was nothing 
for me to do but fight for it, so I told Annie to ride on, 
and I would beat back the savages. I turned upon them 
with no hope of final victory, but with a determination to 
have as many lives as possible for my own. I knew she would 
reach the fort in safety, for there were only two in the lead, 
and I disposed of them in short order. 

^ ■. I had fired my last ball when I saw my enemies turn and 
flee. Glorying over my victory and watching their flight, 
I was surprised to see my old comrades in hot pursuit. 

During those long days of delirium (for I was severely 
wounded) her face was ever before me. Sometimes she would 
lead me through beautiful avenues into some quiet, secluded 
spot, and there all cares and pains would leave me, and my 


soul would feast upon her beauty. If only such deep love 
and happiness could last through life, what a paradise this 
old earth would be! 

How can I ever forget that transition from the delirious 
to the conscious state. A fine morning it was and the sweet 
perfume of the flowers filled my room with a fragrance that 
only the sick can fully appreciate. With my eyes closed, 
dreaming of the delight and pleasure in store for me when 
I should open them and behold that vision of perfect love- 
liness that I had raved about in my madness, she touched 
my lips ever so lightly, and my heart swelled with love and joy. 

When she saw such pleasure written on my face, and 
felt that she was caught she could not deny me an explanation 
of our broken engagement. 

"When I sent back your ring my heart almost broke, 
for I loved you with all my heart and soul. I cannot now 
understand why I sent it back, except that my pride and 
jealousy were aroused when I saw you paying so much at- 
tention to little Kitty Lewis. I didn't expect you to keep 
it, but thought you would give it back, and — and beg my 
forgiveness. And when I met you on the street it was such 
a sudden surprise and you left so soon afterwards that I did 
not have a chance — " 

"Make no apologies, for I have been to blame. I was 
too young and hot-headed to see my mistake then. After 
all, may be it has turned out for the best, for who can say 
that we would be together now if it hadn't been for that es- 



VoL 8. Jackson, Miss*, April, J 906. No. 6. 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College. 

J. A. Baker... Editor-in-Chief 

W. A. Williams Associate Editor 

R. B. Carr Local Editor 

Frances Park Literary Editor 

E. C. McGiLVRAY Alumni Editor 

L. E. Price Business Manager 

J. C. Neill, J. C. RoussEAUx - Assistant Business Managers 

Remittances and business communications should be sent to L. E. Price, 

Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be 

sent to J. A. Baker, Editor-in-Chief. 

Issued the 1st of Each Month During the College Year. 

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

J T 


± . £ 

It would indeed be a difficult undertaking 
Writing, to estimate the influence and power that is 
an Educator exerted by the man of letters. All subjects 
and questions are treated by him. No phase 
of life has not been touched on. In short, his field is not 
limited but is boundless. No other profession or vocation 
in life has such material to work on, nor can they attain such 
exalted greatness and power as are attained by the great 
writers. The name of a patriot or conqueror may live on 
the pages of historj^ and in the hearts of the people for a few 
centuries, but the memory of a Shakespeare will never die. 

Some may refer me to an Alexander or Caesar and say 
that their names have lived and will continue to be cited 
as examples of greatness. But these men failed in the ac- 
complishment of their purposes. Alexander undertook to con- 
quer the world and failed. With his death all his power 


fled, and his magnificent structure crumbled and fell. The 
idea of uniting the world in one grand empire was not only 
the hope and ambition of Alexander, but Rome came nearer 
in realizing such an undertaking. With Shakespeare it was 
different. Whether it was his ambition to win such fame 
as is now given him, I cannot say. But it is true that his 
influence is widely felt, and that he has given to the world 
works that will stand. 

But what has that to do with the college student? Can 
he hope to be another Shakespeare? The higher your ideals 
and the harder you strive to attain these ideals the greater 
will be your success. In college you have every advantage 
to improve your efficiency as a writer, and should you fail 
in this your education would be incomplete. There is none 
to deny the great advantage of a clear and forcible statement 
and this is acquired only by writing. The opportunities you 
have to improve your ability as a writer are many. The 
editor of the Collegian has so often appealed to you for 
your contributions that he feels a delicacy in even mentioning; 
it now. But your patriotism and the pride and interest 
that you should feel in the publication of the college magazine 
if for no other reason, should induce you to write for it. 

When you understand the nature of the Collegian; 
know that it is published solely by the students and for 
their interest, you might be induced to exert yourself a little 
and make it a greater success. The college's standing is in 
your keeping, and largely is it judged by the quality of our 
publication. Our professors feel the truth of this statement, 
and have made inducements to the students — offered a prize 
for the best contribution. 

In thus writing for the Collegian you are not only raising 
its standard but you are improving your education and make 
ing possible a greater success in life. 

A good library is a valuable possession,. 

The New and when it is a part of the college, its val- 

Library uableness increases. But in order to have 

a good library, good taste must be shown 

in the selection of books and periodicals together with an 

endowment sufficient to cover expenses. To meet the 

first demand, Professor Walmsley, who is intimately associated 

with the college and thoroughly acquainted with the demands 

of the librarj', has charge of this department. And by the 


liberal donations of Mr. Carnegie and Major Millsaps, we are 
enabled to erect a library building and increase its endowment. 
The plans for the building have been selected by Mr. 
Carnegie and will be completed at a cost of $15,000. This 
will be constructed out of gray stone, and suitably finished 
on the inside. While the location has not yet been decided 
on, we are confident that it will be selected where it will show 
to the best advantage. 

\- By the liberality of Major Millsaps the endowment has 
been increased $15,000, which with the books and funds 
we have, places us in possession of a very valuable library. 
We already have a very good collection of books and mag- 
azines, but feel that their number can be increased with great 
benefit to the students. 


Only a few more weeks now till the great meeting of 
teachers in Jackson. The city promises to take care of all 
who will come, but in order to save inconvenience it will 
be well to drop a postal to E. L. Bailey, Chairman Local 
Committee, to have room reserved for you. Rates $1.00 
to $3.00 per day. All railroads have promised rate of ONE 
FARE plus 25 cents. See that your local agent has tickets 
on hand. Tickets on sale May 2, 3 and 4. 


T. P. Scott, Secretary, 

Brookhaven, Miss. 


± ± 

The following young men were appointed by the fac- 
ulty to represent the Freshman class in the contest for the 
Freshman medal. Commencement: Messrs. Flint, Griffin, 
Williams, Mullens, Huddleston, Cooper, Keith, Zung, Beraud, 
Brooks, Ruff and Bowman. 

Wanted. — Big words. — GrifBn and Mohler. 

Being the occasion of the anniversary of the installation 
of their chapter at Millsaps, the Pi Kappa Alpha fraternity 
entertained their friends on the night of April 7. 


Lost, Strayed or Stolen. — A translation of Horace. 
Return to Dr. Swartz and receive reward. — A. L. Rogers, 
and E. C. McGilvray. 

The latest development in the social circles of Millsaps 
originated with the co-eds. The other clubs, organizations, 
feats, etc., have taken down their sign, and left the stage 
of action clear for the Gigglers club. When in session it re- 
minds one of a flock of blackbirds in a beech tree in October. 
At the first meeting, as is always a girl's failing, they decided 
to let the secrets be known to a few boys, and elected C. C. 
Applewhite as Chief High Giggler, with Minor Frogs as fol- 
lows: John Carlton, tenor; C. L. Neill, alto; and Prof. G. W. 
Huddleston, Old Frog, bass. 

On Friday night, April 6, the members of the Kappa 
Sigma fraternity gave their annual spring reception. 

Our annual revival closed Friday night, March 30. It 
was conducted by Rev. Paul Kern, of Nashville, brother 
of our Dr. Kern, of the chair of English. Mr. Kern, as an 
orator has few superiors, and as a preacher he is earnest and 
forceful; as a result his appeals did not fail to reach those 
who heard him. There were fifteen conversions. Taken as 
a whole the meeting was by far the best ever witnessed by 
the student body. 

Dr. Murrah appointed two members of the faculty, 
Professors Walmsley and Kern, and three members of the 
student body, Messrs. Mohler, Neill and Williams, to draft 
a set of resolutions showing our appreciation for the gen- 
erosity of Mr. Andrew Carnegie in giving the college $15,000 
with which to build a magnificent library on the campus 
Major R. W. Millsaps for $15,000 endowment for the library, 
and our life long friend and president of the Board of Trus- 
tees, Bishop Charles B. Galloway for his activity in securing 
the donation. 

The resolutions were drafted and unanimously adopted 
by the faculty and students and were ordered published in 
both of the Jackson papers, and the New Orleans Advocate 
and the Millsaps Collegian, and also copies to be sent to Mr. 
Carnegie, Major Millsaps and Bishop Galloway. Work on 
the building will be begun at once, and will be completed 
by the beginning of the next session. It will be used exclus- 
ively for libarry purposes. The only extra rooms will be 
for the offices of the librarian. 


Mr. J. L. Neill, the business manager, states that the 
interest continues to grow in the Bobashela. The material 
has all gone to the engraver, and he states that the proofs 
for zinc etchings and half tones are arriving in ever^' mail, 
and that he will have it out by May 15. The general make-up 
of the annual is far better than last year's, and when we recall 
the fact that the one published last year was among the best 
if not the best published in the South, we can look for some- 
thing this year which not only will be a credit to Millsaps 
College, but also a great advertisement to the city of Jackson. 
The Art department is to be the leading feature with sixty 
pen drawings, cartoons, etc., made by the students of the 
college. All phases of college life from "first prep" to "Senior" 
will be illustrated. The faculty has not escaped the eye of 
the artist, and some of their characteristics which they have 
never seen will be portrayed vividly. The price of the Boba- 
shela will be $2.00 the copy. tThe business manager has 
already secured 215 subscriptions from the student body, 
and expects to make it 250 when he has received the subscrip- 
tions from our Alumni. Give him your name and the number 
of annuals you want at once. 

At the recent International Students Convention, held 
in Nashville, Tenn., the delegates from the nine colleges of 
Mississippi, seeing the need of missionary spirit among the 
students throughout the state, met and elected one student 
from each college and they are to compose a committee for 
the promotion of this work among the students. The com- 
mittee is as follows: J. W. Willis, A. & M. College; Walton, 
Universitj^; Canna, ^lississippi College; Miss Byrd, Meridian 
Female College; Faulk, Meridian Male College; J. A. McKee, 
Millsaps College; Miss Smallwood, 1. 1. & C; Miss May, Grenada 
College; Miss Cooper, Whitworth College; and Miss Sumrall, 
Blue Mountain College. Mr. J. W. Willis was elected chair- 
man; Miss Smallwood, Secretary; J. A. McKee, Treasurer. 
As a basis for work, and a plan which has met a hearty response 
from many to whom it has been presented, the committee 
has undertaken to raise six hundred dollars, the cost of sup- 
porting an active missionary in the field, by June 1. This 
links almost the entire student body of the state in one com- 
mon cause and should certainly meet a hearty response from 
every one. So far as we know, Mississippi has taken the 
lead in spreading the work of the Convention. Every one 
should rally to the cause and help this commJttee to make 
success of its undertaking. 




.Frances Parkj^o^ 

By Edwin Mims. 

There is now for the first time an adequate Hfe of Sidney 
Lanier, by Edwin Mims, Professor of Enghsh Literature in 
Trinity College, N. C. 

As student, teacher. Confederate soldier, lawyer, mu- 
sician, lectures at John Hopkins University, poet and essay- 
ist—in each of these callings we follow with intense interest 
the account of the struggles and achievements of one of the 
first "princes of American song." 

The biographer does not fix Lanier's rank as a poet. 
The time has not yet come for a final valuation. His defects 
are frankly pointed out in these words: 

"He never attained, except in a few poems, that union 
of sound and sense which is characteristic of the best poetry. 
The touch of finality is not in his words; the subtle charm 
of verse outside of the melody and the meaning is not his 
— he failed to get the last 'touches of vitalizing force.' He 
did not, as Lowell said of Keats, 'rediscover the dslight and 
wonder that lay enchanted in the dictionary.' He did not 
attain to the perfection and the precision of the instantaneous 

Yet if Lanier lacked in power of expression and in time 
for revision of his work, we are left in no doubt that he is 
entitled to a place among the genuine poets of America. That 
no American anthology would be complete that did not con- 
tain a dozen or ccore of his poems, and no study of Amer- 
ican poetry that did not take into consideration twice this 

Professor Mims questions the right of Lanier to be placed 
among the dozen best American critics. He says that he 
did not have the learning requisite for a great critic, and 
consequently has a tendency to indulge in hasty general- 
izations. He vigorously expressed his dislikes in literature 
in the same degree that he excessively praised some men. 
Yet he had remarkable insight into literature, in spite of his 
strong prejudices and lack of great learning. He was a great 


admirer of Chaucer (in fact all Anglo-Saxon writers) and 
spoke of his works as full "of cunning hints and twinkle-eyed 
suggestions which peep between the lines like the comely faces 
of country children between the fence bars as one rides by." 
As with Keats', so with Lanier's name there will always 
be associated the "glory of the unfulfilled life" — a glory that 
far exceeds the actual work of such men. The biographer 
quotes the poet's own words: "I know, through the fiercest 
tests of life, that I am in soul, and shall be in life and utter- 
ance, a great poet." It goes without saying that the founda- 
tion for this confident ambition was laid in his musical genius, 
his reverence for science and scholarship, his appreciation 
of nature, and his great love of man. Professor Mims says 
that perhaps there are no two single lines in Americaa (poetry 
which expresses better the deeper meaning of love than these: 

"I marvel that God made you mine; 
For when he frowns, 'tis then ye shine." 

They were addressed to his loyal and heroic wife, and 
the place given her in this biography links her fame with his 
as is Clara Schumann's with that of the great German mu- 
sician. She has shown herself worthy of his praise in educating 
her young family, despite poverty and sickness. 

She must have sustained him greatly in the bouyant 
spirit with which he held off that consuming disease, as an 
intimate friend said: "Like a true knight errant, never dis- 
heartened by difficulty, never despondent in the face of dan- 
gers, always brave, full of resources, confident of ultimate 

The poet's letters to members of his family and intimate 
friends are appropriately used in the story of his Ufe. He 
was an excellent letter-writer, and in no other way could 
we be made to feel so strongly the qualities of one of the rarest 
and finest personalities we have yet had in America. 

The biographer says that if one relied on a single poem 
to keep alive the fame of Lanier, he should select "The Marshes 
of Glynn," "with the assurance that there is something so 
individual and original about it, and that, at the same time, 
there is such a roll and range of verse in it, that it will surely 
live not only in American poetry, but in English. Here the 
imagination has taken the place of fancy; the effort to do 
great things ends in victory, and the melody of the poem cor- 
responds to the exalted thought." 


"And now from the Vast of the Lord will the waters of sleep 
Roll in on souls of men, 
But who will reveal to our waking ken 
The forms that swim and the shapes that creep 
Under the waters of sleep? 
And I would I could know what swimmeth below when the 

tide comes in 
On the length and the breadth of the marvelous Marshes of 


W A. Williams, Editor. 

The "Randolph-Macon Monthly" is one of the foremost 
college publications in the entire country. The editors ex- 
press themselves in the experienced style of veterans and 
the contributions are all meritorious. The March number 
contains sixty seven pages of reading matter, of which there 
is not a contribution but is a credit to its writer. Poetry, 
stories and essays abound in the right proportion to form a 
well balanced magazine. "College Training" is one of the 
articles of a heavier nature, and though an old subject, is 
admirably treated. The best thought that the writer brings 
out is, that of the two chief purposes of college education, 
the training of the mind and the strengthening and develop- 
ing of character, the latter is by far the more important. 
In the tribute to "General Nathan Bedford Forrest," the 
writer devotes nearly half his time to generalizations before 
arriving at the subject of his paper; these generalizations 
however contain thoughts so well expressed that the reader 
does not regret that so much of the paper is given to them. 
The portion given to the treatment of General Forrest is largely 
narrative history, well written and containing information 
that will interest the student of history who has not heard 
Bishop Gailor's lecture on the same subject. "Alas, too 
Late," is a story that evidently was not written to draw a 
moral, but it contains humor of a fine kind, is true to life 
and is to be complimented both for style and diction. "The 
Ways of Man" is a short story, excellent for its humor; how 
Moses and his father got the "old 'oman's" order confused 
is extremely ludicrous, and the plan the old darky devises 


to escape the reproaches of his "discomverted" partner by 
teUing her he "cod'n' fin' none of dem things she specified 
on dat meranda," is remarkably true to negro character. 

"The Review and Bulletin" is one of the best edited 
magizines that comes to our desk. In the last issue is a strong 
editorial on honesty in college papers. The editorial is written 
with reference to commencement exercises and other con- 
tests rather than with refenerce to examinations. The ed- 
itorial is timely, coming as it does when students all over 
the South are making preparation for such contests. All 
the departments are creditable, and there is some good orig- 
inal verse. The magazine is deficient in stories, however; 
this issue has but one short story and it does not rise above 
the mediocre. 

We are glad to welcome "The Polyteclmian." It con- 
tains a number of readable articles, the most instructive of 
which is "Harvard University." In this article the writer 
discusses Harvard's elective system, the opportunity to obtain 
a degree in three years, and the University's splendid equip- 
ments. "A Heroic Deed" is a typical college story; the point 
at which Mary takes her little sister and risks both their lives 
to save her sister's is intensely exciting and the reader is held 
in suspense until they are rescued. 

"Castle Heights Herald" is one of our most appreciated 
exchanges. It always contains some well written stories and 
essays, and has the best joke department that comes to us. 
The exchange editor also deserves praise. He has the power 
of summing up a in very few lines the strong and weak points 
of his exchanges and his brief criticisms enable him to review 
a large number. In his editorial the editor makes a very strong 
appeal for a moral reformation. We hope that the editor 
does not mean for us to infer that jealousy exists among 
the members of the editorial staff, or that the students at 
Castle Heights really "cuss." And yet the editorial implies 
as much. The four orations of the Washington's Birthday 
Contests published in this issue are all on old subjects, but 
are very good. In the oration, however, on Benjamin Franklin 
if the omission of quotation marks from the closing parargaph 
be not the fault of the printer, the writer is guilty of a grave 
offense; for with the exception of a single sentence the entire 
paragraph is taken from Graves' Eulogy on Grady. 


The last issue of the "Blue Mountain College Magazine" 
shows a marked improvement both in the covering and con- 
tents. "When Greeks and Romans Meet" is a well written 
story and holds the attention of the reader throughout. "The 
Reconciliation" and "How this Turned" are love stories, both 
of which are well worthy of mention. The series of poems 
on Christmas are all good. Both the local and the joke de- 
partments are commendable; the editorial and exchange 
departments need more attention. On the whole this is a 
creditable issue and comes up to the magazine's old standard. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

I had von leedle pony 

E'es name was Handy-lit; 
I lent him to a Senior 

To get e'es Latin mit. 
He trotted him. he galloped him, 

He rode him all the night; 
I would not lend mein pony now, 

To save a Senior's life. — Ex. 

♦ ♦ ♦ 

We may live without cities, gyms and frats, 
We may live without racquets, baseballs and bats. 
We may live without chums, and live without cronies. 
But "Varsity" men cannot live without ponies. 

We may live without debates; what are speeches but grieving? 
We may live without co-eds; what are girls but deceiving? 
We may live without shows, and live without hacks, 
But "Varsity" men cannot live without jacks. 

— Tom Riley, in Review and Bulletin. 

♦ » ♦ 

A book agent in St. Louis, 
Who had traveled long and far, 

Said: "Can't I sell you Shakespeare?" 
To the man behind the bar. 
And the "bar-keep" answered, "Neffer," 

For I know already yet. 
Dot our Busch's beer and our Lemp's beer, 
Beats your Shakes-beer! Can't you bet." — Ex. 


Here lie the bodies of 
Obediah Wilkinson 
Ruth Wilkinson, 
his wife. 
Their warfare is accompUshed. — Ex. 

Mr, Jones — If I should die, pet, would you follow me 
to the grave? 

Mrs. Jones — I might, my dear, but I wouldn't care to 
follow you further — Ex. 

The Sophs saw something green, 'tis true; 

They thought it was the Freshman class; 
But when they closer to it drew. 

They found it was a looking glass. — Ex. 

Little Jack Homer sat in a corner 

Eating concentrated lye. 

When his mother came in 

He had emptied the tin — 

And they will meet in the sweet bye and bye. — Ex. 

"This is a grave mistake," exclaimed the man when he 
found he was weeping over the wrong tombstone. — Ex. 



When the surging billows swell, 
I am dreaming, Clarabel, 

Dreams of thee; 
And the visions come and go 
Like dim shadows to and fro, 

Ever free. 

For my heart is ever thine. 
And I worship at thy shrine, 

Though the seas between us roll 
With their never-ending dole. 
Yet I feel upon my soul 

Love's strong spell. 


Stay, oh stay thee, happy hour, 
With thy soul-enchanting power. 

Heavenly gleam! 
Bid Time falter on his pinion 
At the prayer of sweet love's minion. 

Let me dream. 

— Randolph-Macon Monthly. 


E. C. McGILVRAY, Editor. 

We sincerely hope to see a very great number present 
at the Annual Alumni Reunion. It seems that every alumnus 
is due it to himself to return to his Alma Mater once a year 
at least, to mark its progress and to greet the new members 
of the Association. Commencement is rapidly approaching. 

We feel somewhat slighted in not having an occasional 
visit from our Alumni who live in town. There are only four 
of their kind, and we think they ought to show their appre- 
ciation of this fact. The lady member of the class of 1906 
is loyal and true to every feature of college life. No one 
questions her loyalty next year. 

No one would have thought that W. C. Bowman, a former 
Alumni editor, would visit the college without giving us a 
lot of Alumni notes. Mr. Bowman knows how hard it is to 
write up the notes when he knows nothing relating to the 

Every member of the Alumni is glad to note the success 
of Wynn HoUoman, who graduated in 1900. He is now a 
partner in one of the strongest law firms in Louisiana. He 
is also Superintendent of the Sunday School in the First 
Methodist Church in Alexandria. 

Rev. J. W. McGee was a welcome visitor to the campus 
recently. He was all "laughs" and smiles, as usual, and 
was very proud to see the boys. It seems natural to hear 
Brother McGee laugh. He is doing more this year for the 
Library than any other member of the Alumni. 


Charlton Alexander visited fraternity friends on the cam- 
pus last week. Charlton has a bright future before him in 
his chosen profession of law. 

ITS "T. IB. i3o:x:ey^ 


MAKE 138 Capitol St. Jackson, Miss. 


BY A $30,000 

They will take your note for tuition, 
payable >vhen you secure a position. 




me Free Scholarships. 

I have known Prof. N. J. Harris for ten or twelve years, consider him, in 
the fullest sense, a Christian gentleman and worthy of the utmost confidence.' I 
know several young men who received their commercial training under him, and 
they are sustaining tliemselves well in the business world. I consider Harris 
Business College one of tlie most thorough institutions of its character, and most 
heartily commend it to all seeking a Commercial Education. 

H. L. WHITFIELD, State Supt. Education. 


J. E. TAYLOR, Proprietor 


Flash Light.s Made at Night. 
Developing and Finisliing for Amateurs. 

425 1-2 Capitol Street Jackson, 

(Op. Baptist Church) Mississippi 


SWEENY, Photographer 
Special Prices to Students 

Everything Up-to-Date Prices Reasonable 

You are cordially invited to call and 
examine specimens at your leisure. 

415 1-2 E. Capitol Street. Jaclfson, Miss. 



IDEAL LOCATION, Combining all the advantages of 
the city with the healthful conditions and immuni- 
ties of the country. Convenient to electric car line. 

Literary and Law Departments Otter Special Advantages. 


W. B. MURRAH, President 

Special Prices for You at 





109 State, 


Jackson, Miss. 

CAPITAL $300,000.00 

Surplus and Undivided Profits _ - - 50,000.00 

Z. D. Davis - - - President 

R. W. MiLLSAPS, - Vice-President. 

Amos R. Johnston Ass't. Cashier 

W. D. Davis. - - Ass't. Cashier. 


R. W. Millspas Ben Hart L. B. Moseley 

Z. D. Davis A. A. Green W. B. Jones 

C. H. Alexander R. L. Saunders Logan Phillips 

E. Watkins S. J. Johnson W. C. Ellis 


Can be had of Us at Satisfactory Prices. 


Special Attention given to Millsaps Boys. 


nS So. State. Jackson, Miss. 

Every student should have one of the new Self-Filling 
Fountain Pens, sold for $1.25 and guaranteed by Eyrich & Co. 
to write smoothly, flow readily and not to leak, there being no 
joints. Money returned, if you are not more than pleased 




Dray Line to all Parts of the City. 


Jackson, Mississippi. 

Century Building. p^^^^ ^^^ 3^^^ 

y^^^y :/ / BY A $30,000 

^^^^4^€i^n^fe€iZ CAPITAL. 

They will take your note for tuition 
payable when you secure a position.' 

It FAKE PAID. lianniM n..^. 

r.-i\-oia-£- HARRIS ROSIHESS COLLEGE, Jackson, Miss 

the il^itr^:i^^l-i^l^^^ IndtrtUT/i^ ^r ' t^^ ^-^ - ' 

mow several young men who reSved ZirTni^rn^ • i¥ "*'?'°'* confidence. I 
;hey are sustainin/themsXes wp ifn *^^j\^°™°^ercial training under him, and 
Business College ole o?Te m^r t Wul^h insSToU?^ ' consider Harris 
.eartily commend it to all seeking a CoXerdal ETcatil' '^"''*''' ^^^ ^°^* 
H- L. WHITFIEL D, State Supt. Education. 

Go to 


214 W. Capitol Street for Jackson, Miss. 


Our Motto : Satisfaction Guaranteed or your money back. 

The Jones Printing Company 

415 E. Capitol Street. Telephone No. 346* 





See J. A. McKee. 

ITY are the requisites of 
a desirable shoe. The 
"FLORSHEIM" for men 
complies with all these re- 


and Hart, Schafner and Marx co 

fine the sale of then* Clothing 
our store. Why? Because we c 
afford to carry large assortmen 
and becaues we can afford to 
on a a smaller margin of prof 
Suits and Overcoats $10 to $30. 

Floershefan Shoes $5 and $6. 
• Packard Shoes $3^0 and 

The Joncs-Kennington Dry Goods Company 



VoL 8. Jackson, Miss., May, 1906. No. 7, 


By Alphose Daudet. 

(translated by a MILLSAPS STUDENT.) 

He was called Stenne, the little Stenne. He was a child 
of Paris, sickly and pale, who might have been ten, perhaps 
fifteen, years old — one never knows about these urchins. 
His mother was dead; his father, a former Marine, guarded 
a square in the Temple quarter. The babies, the nurses, the 
old ladies with their camp-chairs, the poor mothers, all the 
slow walking people of Paris who come to take shelter from 
the carriages in these gardens bordered with foot-paths, knew 
Stenne's father and worshipped him. They knew that under 
this fierce looking mustache, terrible to dogs and loafers, was 
hidden a good tender smile, almost maternal, and that, to see 
this smile, one had only to say to the good-natured man: 
"How is your little boy?" .... 

He loved his son so much, this father Stenne! He was 
so happy, in the evening, after school, when the little fellow 
came to get him, and then they took together a turn in the 
walks, stopping at each bench to bow to the frequenters, to 
acknowledge their kindness. 

With the siege unfortunately everything changed! 

Father Stenne's square was closed, they put petroleum 
in it and the poor man, compelled by an incessant watch, 
passed his life alone in the abandoned and overthrown blocks 
of masonry without fretting, no longer having his son until 


very late in the evening in doors. Then too, one should have 
seen his mustache, when he spoke of the Prussians! Little 
Stenne himself did not complain too much of tliis new life. 

A siege! It is so amusing for the urchines! No more 
school — hoUdays all the time and the street as crowded as a 
iair ground. 

The child remained outside imtil evening, running about. 
He accompanied the district battalions that went to the 
rampart, selecting in preference those which had good music; 
and on that, httle Stenne was very well informed. He told 
you very easily that the band of the 96th was not worth much 
but in the 55th they had an excellent one. At other times, he 
watched the soldiers drill. After that, there was the dis- 
tribution of food to the people, who formed themselves in rows 
at the public stations. With his basket under his arm, he 
joined these long rows which were formed in the darkness 
of the winter mornings with no gas to hght them at the gate 
of the biitchers and bakers. There, with his feet in the water, 
he made some acquaintances, he talked politics, and as he was 
Monsieur Stenne's son, each one asked him his opinion. But 
the most amusing tiling of all was this famous game of "ga- 
loche," that the Briton soldiers had made fashionable during 
the siege. When little Stenne was not at the rampart nor 
the bakeries, you were sure of finding him at the game of 
"galoche" in the square of the Chateau-d'Eau. He did not 
play, to be sure; it required too much money. He was con- 
tented to watch the players! 

One especially, a tall man wearing a blue linen coat, whose 
stakes were always silver dollars, excited his admiration. 
When that one ran one heard the coins ringing in the bottom 
of his coat pocket. One day, while picking up a piece that had 
rolled under little Stenne's feet, the tall man said to him in 
a low voice: "You look with amazement at my money, do 
you not? i\h, well, if j^ou wish I will tell you where one finds 


The game finished, he led the boy to a comer of the square 
and proposed to him to come with him to sell papers to the 
Prussians. He had thirty francs for the journey. At first 
Stenne refused, very much infuriated; and in consequence 
he remained three days without returning to the game — three 
terrible days! He no longer ate, he could sleep no more. 
At night he saw piles of money arranged on the foot of his 
bed, and very bright dollars that were spun flat sided. The 
temptation was too strong. The fourth day, he returned to 
the Chateau-d'Eau, allowed himself to be persuaded. 

They set out on a snowy morning, a bag of coarse cloth 
on the shoulder, the papers hidden under their blouses. When 
they reached the gate of Flanders, it was scarcely daylight. 
The tall fellow took Stenne by the hand, and, approaching 
the sentinel — a good looking private who had a red nose and 
who looked kind — he said to him in a pitiful voice: "Let 
us pass, my good sir. Our mother is sick, father is dead. We 
are going to see if they will let us pick up potatoes in the fields." 

He wept. Stenne, quite ashamed, hung his head. The 
sentinel looked at them a moment, cast a glance over the road 
deserted and white with snow. 

"Pass quickly," he said to them, turning aside; and 
there they are on the way to Aubervilliers! It was the tall 
one who laughed! Confused, as in a dream, little Stenne 
saw some factories transformed into barracks, deserted bar- 
ricades hung with wet rags, mounted with long cliimneys 
which penetrated into the sky, far away and broken off. From 
distance to distance, a sentinel, some ofiicers with their heads 
in hoods who looked over there with field-glasses, and little 
tents soaked in snow, melted before fires which were dying out. 
The big fellow, acquainted with the roads, went through fields 
to avoid the stations. However they did not reach their 
destination without escaping an outpost of sharp-shooters. 
These, with their water-proofs on, were crouched at the bottom 
of a ditch full of water, all along the railroad of Soisons. It 


was in vain that the big fellow commenced his story this time, 
they did not want to let them pass. Then, while they were 
lamenting, from the gate-keeper's house there came out across 
the way an old sergeant, very pale, very wrinkled, who resem- 
bled Stenne's father: "Come, urchins, do not weep any 
more," said he to the children, "they will let you go there 
for your potatoes; but first come in and warm up a bit — ■ 
that child seems to be frozen." 

Alas! it was not from cold that little Stenne trembled,, 
it was from fear, he was ashamed. Inside the camp, they found 
some soldiers grouped around a poor fire, a real widow's fire, 
in whose flames they were thawing some biscuit on the end 
of their bayonets. They drew nearer to make room for the 
children to whom they gave a few drops of coffee. 

While they were drinking, an officer came to the door,, 
called the sergeant, spoke to him quite low and went away 
very quickly. 

"Boys," said the sergeant, returning, radiant, "we shall 
have some fun tonight, we have overheard the watch-word 
of the Prussians — I believe that this time we will take back 
from them this cursed Bourget (suburb of Paris)!" 

There was an outburst of "Bravos" and laughter. They 
danced, sang and cleaned their sabres, and taking advantage 
of this tumult, the children disappeared. The trench passed, 
there was no longer anything but level country, and in the 
background a long, white wall perforated with loop-holes. It 
is towards this wall that they directed themselves, stopping 
at each step to pretend they were picking up potatoes. 

"Let us go back — let us not go there," said little Stenne 
the whole time. The other one raised his shoulders and kept 
ahead. Suddenly they heard the clicking of a gun. 

"Lie down!" said the big fellow, throwing himself on the 

Once down, he whistled. Another whistle answered over 
the snow. They advanced, crawling. Before the wall, nearly 


level with the ground, appeared two yellow mustaches under 
a greasy, woolen cap. The big fellow jumped into the trench 
near the Prussian: 

"That is my brother," said he, pointing to his companion. 
■ Stenne was so small, that seeing him, the Prussian began 
to laugh and was compelled to take him in his arms to lift him 
over the breach. 

On the other side of the wall there were high piles of earth, 
trees lying down, some black holes in the snow, and in each 
hole the same greasy cap, the same yellow mustaches that 
laughed, seeing the children go by. In a corner was a gardener's 
house casemated with logs. The lower part was full of soldiers 
who played cards and made soup over a big, bright fire. That 
smelled good, the cabbages, the bacon. What a difference 
between that and the camp of the sharp-shooters! Upstairs 
were the officers. One could hear them playing on the piano 
and uncorking champagne. 

When the Parisiens entered a shout of joy welcomed them. 
They gave way their papers; then there was poured out for 
them something to drink and it made them talk. All of the 
officers looked haughty and wicked; but the big Parisien amused 
them with his suburban liveliness and his caddish vocabulary. 
They laughed, repeated his words after him, reveUing with 
delight in this meanness that he brought them from Paris. 

Little Stenne would have liked indeed to talk, to prove 
that he was not a block-head, but something embarrassed him. 
Opposite him and separated from the others was seated a 
Prussian, older, more serious than the others, who was reading, 
or rather pretended to because his eyes did not leave them. 
There was in his glance tenderness and reproach, as if this 
man had in the country a child the same age as Stenne, and 
that he might be saying to himself: "I would rather die than 
see my son have such a calHng." 

From this moment, Stenne felt as if a hand were placed 
on his heart and prevented its beating. To escape this suf- 


fering he began to drink. Soon everything turned around 
him. He heard vaguely, in the midst of coarse laughter, his 
comrade who was making fun of the national guards, of their 
way of drilUng, imitating a capture of troops at Marias, a night 
alarm on the rampart. Then the big fellow lowered his voice, 
the officers drew nearer and their faces became serious. The 
miserable wretch was about to inform them of the sharp- 
shooters' attack — 

Just then, little wStenne, somewhat sobered, raised up, 
furious: "Not that, comrade — I am not willing." 

But the other one only laughed and continued. Before 
he had finished, all the officers were on their feet. One of them, 
pointing to the door, said to the children: "Begone!" 

And they began talking among themselves, very animated, 
in German. The big one, went out, proud as a king, jinghng 
his money; Stenne followed him, his head down. And when 
he passed close to the Prussian whose gaze had so disturbed 
him, he heard a sad voice which said: "That is not nice 
work." Tears came to his eyes. 

Once on the plain, the cliildren commenced to run and 
returned rapidly. Their sack was full of potatoes that the 
Prussians had given them; with that they passed without 
difficulty the trenches of the sharp-shooters. They were 
getting ready for the night attack. Some troops arrived 
noiselessly, massing themselves behind the walls. The old 
sergeant was there occupied with placing his men, looking 
so happy. When the children passed, he recognized them and 
sent them a kind smile. 

Oh, but that smile caused little Stenne pain! For a 
moment he wanted to cry: "Do not go over there, we have 
betrayed you!" But the other one had told him, "If you speak, 
we shall be shot," and fear kept him from it. 

At the Courneuve they went into a deserted house to 
divide the money. The truth compels me to say that the 
division was made honestly, and that to hear those beautiful 


coins ringing under his blouse, to think of the games of "ga- 
loche" that he had in view, little Stenne no longer found his 
crime so horrible. 

But, when he was alone, the unhappy child! When, 
beyond the gates, the big fellow had left him, then his pockets 
commenced to feel heavy, and the hand that was pressing his 
heart clenched it tighter than ever. Paris no longer seemed the 
same to him. People who passed looked at him severely, as 
if they knew from where he was coming. The word "spy," 
he heard in the noise of the wheels, in the beatings of the 
drummers, who practiced along the Canal. At last he came 
to his home and quite happy to see that his father had not yet 
returned, he went up quickly to their room to hide under 
his pillow those coins which weighed so heavily on him. 

Father Stenne had never been so kind, so joyous as on 
returning that evening. He had just received news from the 
province. The affairs of the country were going better. 
The whole time that he ate, the old soldier looked at his gun 
hanging on the wall, and he said to the child with his kind 
smile: "Hey, boy, how you would go for the Prussians if you 
were big enough!" 

Towards eight o'clock, the cannon was heard. "It is 
firing from the fort of Aubervilliers ; they are fighting at Bour- 
get," said the good-natured man, who knew all his forts. 
Little Stenne became pale, and pretending great fatigue, went 
to bed, but he did not sleep. The cannon continued to thunder, 
and he pictured to himself the sharp-shooters arriving in the 
night to surprise the Prussians and falling themselves into an 
ambuscade. He recalled the sergeant who had smiled on him, 
saw him lying dead over there in the snow, and how many 
others with him! The price of all this blood was hidden there 
under his pillow, and it was he— the son of Monsieur Stenne, 
of a soldier. The tears suffocated him. In the room near by, 
he heard his father walking to open the window. Downstairs, 
in the square, drums were beating to arms; the soldiers were 


numbering themselves before setting out. Decidedly, it was 
a real battle. The miserable child could not keep back a sob. 

"What in the world is the matter with you?" said father 
Stenne, coming in. 

The child, no longer able to stand it, jumped down from 
his bed and came to throw himself at his father's feet. By 
the movement he made, the coins rolled on the floor. 

"What is that? You have stolen?" said the old man 

Then, all in one breath, little Stenne told how he had gone 
among the Prussians and what he had done there. As soon 
as he spoke, he felt lighter hearted, that relieved him from 
accusing himself. With a terrible face, father Stenne listened! 
When it was finished, he hid his head in his hands and wept. 

"Father — father," the child tried to say; the old man 
thrust him away without answering and picked up the money. 

"Is that all?" he asked. 

Little Stenne made a sign that it was all. The old man 
took down his gun, his cartridge-box, putting the money in 
his pocket. 

"It is all right," said he, "I am going to return it to them." 

And then, without adding another word, without even 
turning round again, he went down to mingle with soldiers 
left in the night. He was never seen again after that. 


Last summer I had the pleasure of a two weeks' stay in 
the thriving little village of Carona, Ala., situated on the 
Southern Railroad, in the midst of one of the most important 
mining centers in the state. I had not been there long when 
I found that one of the most important and conspicuous figures 
in the httle town was that of Capt. Trimble. I naturally 
began to inquire who and what about this Capt. Trimble. 
My first Sunday revealed to me that he was, what villagers 
sometimes call, and rightly too, the "post and pillar of the 


church." It was a Methodist church and the pastor could 
give only one Sunday a month, but this grand old man seemed 
to be more than a pastor, because he had spent the greater part 
of his life there, one of purity and righteousness before them, 
whereas the preacher could, by the law of his church, only 
stay four years. 

There was a peculiarity or a personality about him, if I 
may choose those terms to express it, that caused me to want 
to know more of him, for indeed this seems to be a part of the 
social organization of the human race — to penetrate and find 
what there is within the very life of those whom we meet! 

To make a long story short, Capt. Trimble had a large 
share in the coal mines, not only there, but three other places; 
he had retired from active life, and his extensive business 
was run by his only son, who seemed to have inherited a great 
deal of the ability of his father. The patriarch* had served 
his day and generation well, and having passed his allotted 
days was only waiting to be called up higher. 

I had finished my work for the day and returned to my 
room to find a note from this Capt. Trimble, saying that it 
was his pleasure for me to take tea with him that evening in 
his private room. I had met the old gentleman at Sunday 
School, for he never let a stranger go without knowing some- 
thing of him, and when he found that I was a college boy he 
was greatly drawn to me and let my hand go with a "God 
bless you, my boy." 

Eight o'clock found me seated at a little table in the 
large double-room given over entirely to him, for this was his 
custom at times and all others gave way to him. Supper 
ended, the table was cleared, and some rather lengthy con- 
versation about our college and its work having come to a 
close, the old man drew his chair a little closer, his mind be- 
came very active, and there in the quiet stillness of the summer 
night, as the gentle breezes floated across the little range of 
mountains on the north, and whispered notes of peace and 
comfort through the lattice, it became very evident that there 
was a volume of history opening up before me. 


"At seventeen," he continued, "my father sent me to 
Southern University, Greensboro, Ala. I entered the fresh- 
man class. Through the freshman and sophomore years no 
extraordinary events took place in my life, but passing from 
the Junior into the senior year, it became very apparent 
to me in some way, somehow, there was a real change in my 
manner of life. Life to me seemed to be a sphere, 360 degrees 
— 180 degrees backward was my field of thought; the 180 
degrees forward was vague. I could sit and for hours meditate 
on the Archaean time — the period when geological investiga- 
tion begins; the earth a soUd globe — yes, farther back than that, 
when the earth was a part of the nebula. Mountains, rocks, 
and coal formations were subjects of constant study. Even 
at this age, having been connected with coal mines more 
than twenty years, it is a fascinating as well as instructive 
study. In short, the earth was my realm of thought. 

"But returning to my college Hfe: I became, in part, a 
recluse. I sought the company of no one and in turn no one 
sought mine. I attended to my college duties as best I could 
and the time I should have spent in a social way was given up 
to walking alone, meditating upon the past and the why and 
wherefore of the things the Creator had placed aroimd us. 
One who has not drimk deep of the fountains of loneliness and 
estrangement, knows nothing of the mysterious effect it has 
on the conscouis soul. 

Commencement was near and soon I would have my 
A. B. degree. There was to be a reception for the Senior class; 
it was to be given by a member of the faculty and several 
young ladies were to be present. Robert Wilson, my best 
friend, if I could speak of having one, came around, slapped 
me on the shoulder and suggested that we go over together. 
On our way to Prof. Smith's that night, Bob told me some of 
his life plans, how he expected to take unto himself a 'better 
half,' a phrase common among school boys of that day, about 
a year hence. 'By the way,' Rob interrupted rather bluntly, 
'Miss Watts of Florence, Prof. Smith's niece, will be there 
tonight, and now is the time for you, old boy, to make your 
mark! She's great, I declare to you she is, and a boy of your 
talent should have his eyes open. You know my town is only 
four miles north of Florence, and I have seen her a number 
of times.' 

"The reception was over and we were on our way back 
to the campus, but the world seemed stranger to me than ever 


before. It was indeed a pleasure to have Rob talk to me. 
We sat on the stile and talked for an hour or more, and then to 
our rooms! Sleep had gone from me; I was not living in 
a world of reality — the one that had been real to me for more 
than a year." 

* > * * 

"Commencement was over! I was in my twenty-first 
year, 1848. This was the year, you remember, that Marshall 
with a band of Mormon workers, discovered gold while digging 
a mill race on the American River, near New Helvetia, Cal. 
On Jime the fourteenth, ten days after commencement, the 
'California Star' published something to this effect: 'The 
whole country from San Francisco to Los Angeles, from the 
coast to the Sierra Nevadas, resounds to the sordid cry of 
gold! gold!! GOLD!!!' Everybody rushed to this land of 
glittering gold. Indeed King Midas had waved his magic 
wand over the Pacific slope! By July the population of the 
territory had risen to 40,000. The first of January, 1850, 
saw 120,000 Americans and Europeans in the territory, and 
nearly $12,000,000 worth of gold placed in the U. S. mint, and 
$30,000,000 in private hands. 

"I could resist the temptation of going no longer. The 
first of February I was westward boimd. By the way, I stopped 
two days at Florence. On the twentieth day I arrived at the 
little mining town, then called Benton, in the picturesque 
valley of the American River. I soon took in the siiuation, 
and like all others who enter the gold field, was eager to find 
my first piece of gold. But what was it that disturbed my 
mental equilibrium and caused the world to seem so strange 
to me? At last, I had solved it. It was not altogether my 
change of location, not the few lumps of gold I had discovered! 
I had taken my first real glass from the hands of the Goddess 
of Love! Cupid, as some young people now call it, had done 
his work well! My dreams were none other but bright and 
golden. Little thought I of what was soon to befall me. I 
wrote five letters — and no reply; two months had passed and 
not a word. I received my first lesson in doubts and fears. 
I kept busily at work and my mind as busily engaged as pos- 
sible to keep my imagination from running wild. I had good 
success as a miner and day-laborer. Four months had ended; 
I had written four other letters in the meantime, and no 
reply. Could she have proven untrue? Almost persuaded to 


believe it, like Doctor Mannette whom Dickens describes 
so truly, returning to his old trade as shoe-maker, I took on 
some of my old habits of life again. 

"Few things are ever lost in this world! The time I had 
given to geological research and to close observation of the 
rock and earth formation now served me well. Many soon 
left the field, impatient and disheartened, only to become 
ramblers. This work had now become a pleasure to me 
and I saw my way out clearly. I formed few associates and 
hardly anyone knew me, and so much the better, for I was 
now in the old ruts carved at Greensboro in my senior year. 
At times, however, I could see mirrored in the thin sheets of 
gold faint gleams of hope for the one I loved and then they 
would die out forever. 

"Three years had rolled by and not a word from my native 
state except from my father and mother. There is a registered 
package at the postofRce for me! Wliat could it be? It was 
from Colorado Springs — who could have thought it? Could 
it be real?" 

Here the venerable old man turned to his desk and brought 
forth a package of old letters. "I have the original — a keep- 
sake — I will read it to you: 

'Colorado Springs, Jan. 3, 1853. 

'David Trimble, Esq. — Please hear and give heed to these 
words from the lips of a dying man! I have been untrue, yes, 
a hundred times false to a sacred trust! I would fain take 
leave of this life, go in the shame and disgrace of a traitor, 
but for the fact that two other lives would be blighted and 
my own conscience forbids it. I got in league with the post- 
master at Florence, got each of your letters, kept them, and 
now return them in this package. Could any one believe 
that an old classmate could treat another as I have you? I 
saw that love had sprung into your very being that night at 
the reception. I *'saw also a like response from her — I loved 
her myself, and now my whole soul turned to a pang of jealousy. 
I kept up with your several visits after commencement and well 
do I remember the summer afternoon you spent with her 
boat-riding at Lake View, the day you left for the West. What 
a terror the next day to see your ring placed on her finger! 
Mother Evil gathered all her forces and put them to work in me. 
Who knows the evil influence of an ill-fated love? She is 
rightfully yours, she loves you as no other to this very day and 


has been true as steel. In the near future let her tell you all. 
I am too weak to write much longer. For heaven's sake, for- 
give me! I have been here three months and am dying of the 
dreaded disease — consumption; will, in all probability, be dead 
before I can get an answer from you. Tliis revival of past 
mental experiences has served as a stimulus that I might record 
these final words. A strange feeling is coming upon me — 
eyesight grows dim — shadows are creeping aromid me — shades 
are floating — is it death? Have mercy, have mercy, on your 
old classmate! — Robert Wilson.' " 

The old man folded the letter and package. A great calm 
came over his soul. He brushed his hand through his silvery 
locks, took a long breath, arose, walked across the room, 
rolled back the great white curtains from the window, took a 
long gaze down the valley, and then beckoned to me. I was 
at his side in a moment. The moon had risen over the little 
mountain range at an angle of about 40 degrees, her Ught 
had flooded Carona Valley, and was creeping far up the moun- 
tain-side. I looked and far down the roadside, along the base 
of the mountain I could see a little city of the dead. He 
pointed to a tall pyramidal structure in one corner of the 
cemetery, and then in a low melancholy tone of voice, as if 
to himself, I heard him say, "For the touch of a vanished hand, 
the sound of a voice that is still!" 

Nothing disturbed the stillness. What could be so crueiv 
A gentle breeze brushed back his flowing locks, I glanced up- 
ward and saw moistened eyes. I sHpped my watch from my 
pocket, it was twelve. I put my hand through his, bowed 
and was gone to my room. What a strange drama had been 
played before me! Had I had a picture from real hfe or a 
mysterious dream in the night time? The next day at eventide 
I walked down by the cemetery and there was the pyramidal 
structure I had seen the night before and on it was this in- 
scription: "Mary Ehzabeth, daughter M. E. and F. N. Watts, 
bom Dec. 20, 1830; married to David Trimble March 4, 1853; 
died Nov. 14, 1897.' 

J. A. McKee. 



(A Review of Mr. Carnegie's Address to the Students of the 
University of St. Andrew's.) 

Mr. Carnegie begins his rectorial address to the students 
of the University of St. Andrew's by congratulating them that 
they live in a better ege than their forefathers did. He says 
that polygamy, duelling, slavery, and such Uke barbarous 
practices have been discontinued; war alone remaining. He 
denounces war as the foulest blot that ever disgraced the earth, 
but adds that it is a known evil, and that it, too, will soon be 

By quoting extracts from prominent men of all ages since 
Homer Mr. Carnegie shows that war has always been recog- 
nized as an evil by the better class of people, and that it has 
been decried against. 

Mr. Carnegie next traces briefly the history of some of the 
reforms in warfare. At first war was entirely without rules: 
poison, treachery, and the basest deception were freely used, 
and no mercy whatever was shown. Some three hundred years 
before Christ the Ampliictyonic Coimcil adopted certain 
rules in regard to warfare, however, and Hellenes were exhorted 
"to quarrel as those who intend some day to be reconciled." 

Gratius wrote two books condemning war, and it is to 
him that the modem movement is cliiefly due. He was the 
first to lay down the principles of modem Intemational Law. 

The Treaty of Paris in 1856 abolished privateering, ruled 
that a blockade to be recognized must be effective, and es- 
tablished the doctrine that an enemy's goods in a neutral 
ship are free, except contraband. 

The Treaty of Washington in 1871 settled the Alabama 
Claims, and in so doing defined clearly the duties of neutrals 
respecting the fitting out of ships of war in their ports, or the 
use of their ports as a naval base. 

The Brussels Convention, which met in 1874, declared that 
"a town taken by storm shall not be given up to the victorious 
troops to plunder." 

In summing up what has been gained in mitigating the 
atrocities of war Mr. Carnegie says: "Non-combatants are 
now spared, women and children are no longer massacred, 
quarter is given, and prisoners are well cared for. Towns 
are not given over to pillage, private property on land is ex- 


empt, or if taken is receipted to be paid for. Poisoned wells, 
assassination of rulers and commanders by private bargain, 
and deceptive agreements, are infamies of the past. On the 
sea, privateering has been abolished, neutral rights greatly 
extended and property protected, and the right of search 
narrowly restricted." He maintains, however, that a back- 
ward step was taken when the long established practice of 
formally declaring war by the challenge was abolished. 

Mr. Carnegie next rapidly reviews the history of Peaceful 
Arbitration, and takes up The Hague Conference called by 
the Emperor of Russia to meet May 18, 1899. The proposals 
of this Conference were promptly ratified by all the powers 
represented, and Mr. Carnegie says, "at last there is no excuse 
for war." 

The Hague Tribunal first settled a difference between 
the United States and Mexico, and other powers followed 
the example of these countries. This tribunal has nothing 
compulsory about it, and it depends on its merits to win its 
way. Some of the weaker states, however, have agreed to 
submit all questions to it for settlement, while most have 
agreed to submit all questions that do not involve their inde- 
pendence, honor, integrity, or vital interests. Mr. Carnegie 
regrets very much that any exceptions should be made, and 
especially questions of "honor." 

Mr. Carnegie speaks of the refusal of the United States 
to adjust their quarrel with the Filipinos by arbitration, and of 
England's refusal of the offer of the Transvaal Republic to 
arbitrate. He also mentions the fact that neither Japan nor 
Russia suggested arbitration, and while he regrets these re- 
fusals to arbitrate, he says we need not be discouraged on that 
account, as arbitration is still in its infancy. 

The speaker fixes the Jay Treaty of 1794 as the birth of 
modem arbitration, and he says that since that date no less 
than five hundred and seventy-one international disputes 
have been settled by arbitration. He estimates that one in 
ten of these disputes would have resulted in war, so that fifty- 
seven wars have been averted. He remarks further that 
twenty-three International Treaties of Arbitration have been 
made in the last two years. 

Mr, Carnegie mentions the enormous costs of wars, and 
he says that as a means of producing peace between nations 
it is futile, for it embitters the contestants and sows the seed 


of future struggles. He says further that it is the crime of 
destroying human life by war which must be most strongly 

A plan for a Peace League is outlined somewhat as follows: 
Let any three of the five nations that co-operated in quelling 
the recent Chinese disorders form a League of Peace, agreeing 
to submit all differences to arbitration and to declare non- 
intercourse with all nations not complying. Mr. Carnegie 
thinks that the weaker nations would jump at such an oppor- 
tunity and that the larger ones would be forced to enter the 
league. He admits, however, that "notwithstanding all the 
cheering signs of the growth of arbitration, we should delude 
ourselves if we assumed that war is immediately to cease." 

Mr. Carnegie believes that the shortage of officers and re- 
cruits for the army is a hopeful sign for peace. He believes 
that as men become more educated and civilized they cease 
to regard war as an honorable profession, and quotes from 
eminent men who hold to this opinion, among them being 
several great military commanders. He thinks that if the 
government should carry out its idea of enfisting men from the 
Universities it will find them to be poor recruiting ground. 

In conclusion, Mr. Carnegie urges the formation of Leagues 
of Peace all over the country, and in the event of an intema- 
nional quarrel these leagues are to demand that their government 
refer the matter to arbitration, even though it should cause 
a break with a pohtical party. He says: "Refusal to 
arbitrate makes war, even for a good cause, unholy; an offer 
to arbitrate lends dignity and importance to a poor one." 

Mr. Carnegie urges further that the women should demand 
arbitration, and not wait till war has actually begun and then 
organize societies for making and sending necessaries to the 
front, or join Red Cross societies and go themselves to the 
field. He believes that if this plan were followed arbitration 
would soon supersede war and a Universal Peace would follow. 

Mr. Carnegie closes his address with the story of Lincoln's 
resolve to hit slavery hard if he ever got a chance, and urges 
us to "resolve like Lincoln, and select man-slaying as our foe, 
as he did man-selHng." 

Mr. Carnegie's address to the students of the University 
of St. Andrew's is undoubtedly a strong speech for Arbitration. 
But I think he is rather too optimistic, and some of his rem- 
edies seem a little unpractical. For instance, he says: "At 
last there is no excuse for war. A tribunal is now at hand to 


judge wisely and deliver righteous judgment between nations." 
There may be no excuse for war, and this tribunal may be at 
hand, but war will not cease entirely, nor the decisions of 
this tribunal be accepted on all occasions, until all the world 
is civilized. So long as there is an undeveloped and uncivilized 
district on the earth there will be a contest among the great 
powers for it. This contest might be decided by arbitration, 
but even then the successful power would find itself engaged 
in war, for it is certain that the people of that district would 
not surrender their liberty without a struggle. If this second 
question were submitted to arbitration the interests of civ- 
ilization would demand that the uncivilized district be brought 
under the control of the civilized state. Such a decision 
would mean war. Arbitration may be all right where only 
civihzed nations are concerned, but it is not entirely practicable 
when un civihzed nations are involved. When war cannot be 
abolished among all nations it may not be abolished among 

I believe the time is coming when all the world will be 
civilized, though it will be several centuries before all nations 
reach such a stage of civihzation, and arrive at such a perfect 
understanding, that war will be entirely abolished. 

I believe Mr. Carnegie is right in his denunciatiors of war 
and in his plans for arbitration. War is certainly a terrible 
curse to the world, and a Universal Peace would certainly 
be a great blessing. But I do not believe the time has yet 
arrived when three of the great powers can form a League of 
Peace and invite all the others to join them, and then by de- 
claring non-intercourse with all who do not co-operate with 
them, force arbitration on the world. Mr. Carnegie thinks 
the smaller states would jump at such an apportunity and the 
larger ones would be forced to fall into line. This might be 
so if the League were once organized, but not all the great 
powers are yet ready to lay down their national jealousies and 
animosities and join hands in proclaiming a Universal Peace. 
And even if the leaders could be found, many of the weak 
states are so under the influence of the larger ones that they 
would not join the League without the permission of the larger. 

Mr. Carnegie speaks as if war were already almost a thing 
of the past. He mentions the fact that since the Jay Treaty 
five hundred and seventy-one international disputes have 
been settled by arbitration, and estimates that fifty-seven 


wars have been averted. I do not question these figures, but 
since the introduction of rapid transportation and commun- 
ication many more disputes naturally arise, and on the whole 
we have about as many wars as formerly. We would undoubt- 
edly have more, however, were it not for arbitration, so that 
relatively, war may be said to be decreasing, and this is a 
tiopeful sign. 

Mr. Carnegie's idea of Peace Leagues over the country 
is good. The best interests of civilization demand peace, and 
any movement towards a Universal Peace is certainly an ad- 
vance in the right direction. The influence of these Peace 
Leagues would certainly spread, and they would go a long way 
toward bringing about arbitration. 

L. E. Price. 


It had been Cecil Fawnpore's custom to take his little 
friend, Irene Lamb, into the Park in the afternoons. At 
first, while they were very small, their nurses would take them. 
Then, as Cecil grew large enough to take care of himself, he 
did not forget his little companion, but always took her out 
to play under the trees. After more than six years of such 
association, it was natural that there should be quite a com- 
panionship between the two. No matter how much the others 
might tease them, they would always call each other "sweet- 

One bright, sunny afternoon they were together under 
the big trees. Something on this afternoon restrained them 
from playing the usual games with the others. They talked 
to each other alone. To any close observer, the appearance 
that these two presented was charming indeed. Those who 
had been spending their afternoons in the Park had long been 
noticing this little brown-eyed boy and his playmate, the 
little violet-eyed, golden-haired girl. It was but natural 
that every one should look upon them as little lovers. Es- 
pecially did they seem so today. As they sat side by side under 
an old oak tree, there was a yearning expression far beyond 
their years on their countenances. It seemed as if a sense of 
sadness had come upon them. With their young minds they 
were trying to look into the great future— Cecil had been 
telling Irene his ambitions. With his boyish imagination 
he had pictured his success as a doctor in a distant city. Irene 


could bear up no longer; she threw her head into Cecil's lap 
and cried, passionately, "0, Cecil, don't say that we must be 
separated! Tell me, now; you won't go away, will you?" 

"Well, now, don't cry so hard, dearie," and he petted her 
gently. "How would you Uke me to be a doctor here at home?" 

"0, that would be fine!" she exclaimed, drying her tears 
with her little white apron. 

Alas, there comes into human lives unlooked for disasters! 
We know not what an hour may bring forth; today the physical 
man may be all aglow with the joy of life — tomorrow may find 
him smitten, stricken with some dread disease. Many a beau- 
tiful flower, ere it has had time to "shed its fragrance on the 
desert air," is crushed down by the trampling herd. Little 
did Irene know that, when the morrow's sun should arise, 
there would come into her young life a grief ineffable. 

The sun was sinking behind the buildings of the city. 
Thinking it time to return, Irene and Cecil, hand in hand, 
started homeward under the trees. A pufl' of wind carried 
off Irene's sailor hat, and Cecil ran to get it. Soon the wind 
increased with such force that they could proceed only with 
difficulty. The dust was being taken up and hurled down 
the streets with tremendous velocity. It was almost a mile 
to Irene's home, and Cecil, seeing the storm clouds in the 
dark heavens, and being terrified by the lightning, which had 
by this time reached the height of its fury, hurried Irene along 
as rapidly as he could, hoping to get her home before the rain 
should descend. But it was well that a mile did separate 
him from home; for there was where the main storm was raging. 
He was not conscious that he was barely on the outside of 
the storm-path. The wind that was whirling about him was 
only a current, tired of its work of destruction, that had broken 
away from the main storm. Be it said with sorrow, the main 
destruction was being wrought in the very vicinity of Cecil's 
and Irene's home! These two, however, were as ignorant of 
it all as their souls were innocent. All they knew was that 
they were in a terrible wind, and they could hear the crashing 
of buildings and the shouts of the men all mingled with the 
roar of the storm. 

As is always the case, God gave His protection to the 
innocent. A lady while closing her window, noticed our little 
boy and girl, and kindly took them in. When ten o'clock 
came, the storm had passed. Many of the city's lights had 


been destroyed; but the pale moon shone over the terrible 
ruins. News that both the home of Mr. Fawnpore and of Mr. 
Lamb had been completely destroyed reached the kind lady 
who had sheltered the playmates. It was learned that Mr. 
Fawnpore and his wife had been out riding at the time of the 
storm; hence they were safe. But the lady knew that the 
parents must be wild with excitement trying to find their 
little boy. So she sent her son to the scene of the devastation 
in search of them. When he reached the Fawnpore home, he 
saw a man gazing in sorrow upon the ruins. "Are you Mr. 
Fawnpore, sir?" he asked. 

"Yes," he replied and asked with a wild look in his eye„ 
"My boy — have you seen him?" 

"He is safe with his little pla\Tnate in our home!" 

"Thank God!" cried the troubled man. The two started 
in the direction of the kind lady's home. 

It would be too horrible to tell how poor, dear, little Irene's 
parents were found the next morning, so mangled, so ghastly, 
that their nearest friends could scarcely recognize them. They 
were laid side by side in the family tomb. Irene was too young- 
to realize the significance of what had befallen her. But her 
young soul knew how much the love of a mother meant; and 
now she would sob herself to sleep and dream that all was well 
again. Then would come the dreadful waking, when her 
little hand would reach out for her mother, only to find that 
she was gone to be seen no more in this world. Indeed, she 
would have grieved her life away, had it not been for the con- 
stant comfort of Cecil. Wlien not at school he was ever with 
her and cheering her. 

But the saddest day of all had not yet come to Cecil. One 
morning not long after the terrible storm Mr. Fawnpore sent 
Cecil to bring Irene to spend the day with them. Once again 
her little heart was light. All day long these little companions 
had played together. But as the sun was nearing the end 
of his day's journey, again a sense of sadness came over them. 

When Mr. Fawnpore came home from his work, a dark- 
faced, stern-looking man came with him. He was Irene's 
uncle, with whom she had been living after the storm. It 
was an awful moment. Cecil heard the man tell Irene that 
she must go with him, and that they must leave the city to- 
night. Despite her own tears and sobs; in the face of Cecil's 
hot invectives; and regardless of the entreaties of both Mr. 


and Mrs. Fawnpore, Irene's cruel uncle took her away. It 
was afterwards learned that the man had fallen into serious 
trouble; this had unbalanced his mind, and was what had 
caused his strange, cruel action. 

* * * 

The years rolled by. In counting twenty-five eventful 
years Father Time had made no mistake. 

From the Convent of the Sacred Heart in the City of 
Paris, came forth a nun so heavily veiled that no one, unless 
the wind were kind enough to blow her veil aside for a moment, 
could see her countenance. The fast-falling snow, which 
had at first melted because of the trample of so many feet, 
was now beginning to freeze with the result that the walks 
were becoming very slippery. Just as Sister Agnes reached 
a certain corner, a newsboy came running with his papers. 
When he got directly in front of the nun, he tried to make a 
quick turn out of her way, but his foot slipped and a collision 
followed. In an instant they were both lying upon the pave- 
ment and trying to get upon their feet. 

No one had noticed the dark-eyed gentleman, in his high 
top-boots and long, brown overcoat, who had been walking 
at a close distance behind the nun ever since she had left the 
Convent; but now many saw him as he ran quickly forward, 
and with tender care gently raised her to her feet. It was 
natural for her to thank the one who had been so kind to her. 
And as she did so, she caught the light of his dark ej^e, and 
noticed that his lips were tightly pressed together as if to crush 
down some emotion. She noticed his straight dark hair as 
he took off his hat, and she fancied that here and there it 
was gray. Nor did he fail to see her face; for a puff of wind 
blew her veil aside. 

Sister Agnes sped upon her mission of love. For some 
time she had been visiting a young woman who had been for 
a year confined to her bed. It seemed as if the maiden had 
once had a lover who had been called to fight for his country. 
Report had said that he had been killed. When the maiden 
had heard this, she had fainted, and although time had passed 
away, nothing could be done to reconcile her to her fate. 
She was fast wasting away her young life in grief. The flowers 
which Sister Agnes had brought for her today fell carelessly 
upon her pillow; for what she craved was her long-lost lover. 
Sister Agnes thought of the great grief in her own soul which 


many years ago she had tried to suppress, her own spirit groaned 
within her; the memory of a dreadful storm with her play-mate 
lover trying to hurry her home, the remembrance of her parents' 
destruction in that storm, and the recollection of her separa- 
tion from her playmate not long after that storm — these things 
crowded her mind. Then she started; for the incident of her 
walk arose abruptly in her mind, and she saw again the sor- 
rowful face of the kind gentleman. There seemed to be placed 
upon her an overwhelming weight; she was conscious of a 
great, deep yearning in the depths of her soul. She, too, 
sighed — there were two sufferers in that room! 

A knock at the door aroused Sister Agnes, who opened 
to the stranger. A tall form entered. In a moment the 
suffering girl was in his arms. She gave a cry of joy — for he 
was her returned lover. Sister Agnes saw their gladness and 
left the room for the Convent. 

She hurried along the familiar street, deciding not to tell 
the Mother Superior any thing of what had occurred. Like 
Mary of old she "kept all these things and pondered them in 
her heart." 

In the south end of the Convent on the fourth floor was 
Sister Agnes' room and she could look from it far south over 
the city's buildings. When she had performed her sacred 
duties, she sought the solitude of what to her was her only 
home. The sun had long sunk behind the houses of the city. 
Sister Agnes took her seat nearer the window than usual and 
was soon lost in thought. A great question, the vital im- 
portance of which she had not known before, demanded thor- 
ough attention. She had been placed in the Convent when 
only a child, and had grown to the woman that she was without 
knowing tangibly the actual things of the great world in which 
she was living. This day things had happened which had 
created new feelings, or else aroused old ones, within her 

The remembrance of her play-mate lover; her longing 
for the relations of her home; the wondrous happiness of the 
suffering maiden when she threw herself into the arms of her 
long lost lover — was it possible for Sister Agnes to banish 
these from her mind? According to her sacred duty it was 
wrong for her to think even in a casual way of such things. 
Enough resistance cannot be placed against the water far 
beneath the earth's surface to keep it there: the vast pres- 
sure in the mountains above will eventually cause it to burst 


forth as springs. In like manner, no force can successfully 
resist the greatest passion, and yet the grandest element of 
human existence. Love cannot resist love. These things 
dismissed would have come back to Sister Agnes in her slumber. 

I said she sat there and thought. She had defined divine 
love and she knew that she had experienced it; she had at- 
tempted an explanation of human love. She knew that she 
had an intense yearning for those relations born of love. The 
pipes had heated her room too much; she opened the window 
to let the icy breeze bathe her throbbing forehead. She was 
startled by a fluttering of something outside in the air. Then 
a long paper came whirling through the window upon the 
floor. She looked from her window just in time to see a 
tall form in high top-boots and long overcoat disappear around 
the street corner. Then she took the missive from the floor 
and eagerly devoted herself to its contents. How strange 
that the salutation should be the name by which she was 
called when a little girl! The first part of the letter was taken 
up with reasons abundant that God and humanity can best 
be served not behind the walls of a convent, but in the midst 
of men. Marriage had never been prohibited by the Christ. 
Indeed, at a certain wedding He had wrought a miracle for 
the happiness of those present, and He had even likened 
His Church unto a pure, spotless bride. Then came tne closing 
paragraphs with a most passionate plea that Sister Agnes 
remember the days of the past and the playmate of her girl- 
hood. "Even if there were no other reason, why you should 
come to me," the letter ran, "you should come because we 
were lovers once in the long ago!" With many touching 
scenes of the past reiterated, and with the plea that when 
Sister Agnes should again see the man who had helped her in 
the newsboy accident, she might recognize him as none other 
than her playmate lover, the letter closed. But long continued 
were the thoughts of Sister Agnes. 

It was nearing midnight. For some reason the city's 
lights had gone out, but the silvery moon was high in the 
heavens, and its soft, white light sought to thrust itself into 
every corner where darkness was crouching. Sister Agnes 
came to herself and sighed, satisfied that God's creatures can 
serve Him as well, yea better, in the home than behind the 
convent wall; for the Christ had not come to be isolated from 
humanity, but to be one in their midst. 


The next morning as the sun arose, the city was all alive 
with the roar of activity. When Sister Agnes made her toilet, 
it was with a broader and grander conception of her duty, and 
a conscious presence of the Spirit of Trtuh. 

Nor did the memory of the preceding day depart from her. 
So when she again passed the place where the dark-eyed 
gentleman had chanced upon her way, she permitted herself 
to think of him. Somehow, it seemed as if she remembered 
him from some far-distant day. As she had seen him standing 
there in his great, Wgh top-boots and his long, brown overcoat, 
her momentary glance revealed nothing to her. But now, 
as she saw him again with her mind's eye, he seemed to be 
nearer to her, and she knew that he was her playmate grown 
to manhood. 

The reader will not be mistaken in supposing that he of 
the high top-boots was Cecil Fawnpore. For twenty-four 
years he had not heard of Irene — save only that she was in 
some convent in far-away France. He had grown to man- 
hood with a determination to seek until he should find the 
sweetheart of his boyhood, and now the only love of his soul. 
Her violet eyes had ever been before him inspiring him to duty. 
For years he had prayed that he might find her and fold her 
to his bosom. 

Thus led by these hopes he had wandered to well-nigh 
every convent in France, and had lingered near its walls. At 
last, fate had favored him; he had found the convent whose 
walls were imprisoning the one being dearer to him than all 
life. With his observant eyes he had seen much since his 
arrival nearly a year ago. He had upon many occasions seen 
her long-loved face, but he had known how sacred she con- 
sidered the ties which bound her to the isolated life which she 
led. He could not, he would not intrude upon her solitude. 
"If she will only recognize me," he would think, "all will be 

A month passed away! Cecil Fawnpore still took his 
usual walks along the streets surrounding the convent. One 
day Sister Agnes was walking hurriedly from the neat little 
home of the once-suffering, now happy girl to whom God 
had sent back the lover. As she reached the place where the 
dark-eyed gentleman with his high top-boots had shown her 
a kindness, she slackened her pace and looked back. As if 
in answer to an unuttered prayer, Cecil Fawnpore was close 
behind. He quickened his pace and was soon walking by her 


side. Many a curious eye looked in amazement at the nun 
walking with the man, but Sister Agnes cared not for it. She 
took off her veil; Cecil saw once again the violet eyes of his 
long lost Irene! His great chest fairly swelled with emotion. 
He could not wait until they should reach a secluded spot. 
He walked closer to her and told her about their childhood 
days together, of his undjang love for her, and how he had 
planned all through the past to find her. Memory had put her 
skillful fingers into the entangled meshes of the confused by- 
gone. Sister Agnes remembered her girlish love for him, and 
her great grief at their separation. And what was this new, 
strange feeling but that same old love which she had had for 
him when but a child? 

"All so vivid!" she murmured so low that he could scarcely 
catch it. 

"And true," he said. 

She turned her eyes upon him to compare him with the 
playmate of her girlhood. He saw them fill with tears like 
violets in the early morning. 

"Are you a preacher, Cecil?" she asked. 

He said that he was. Then she smiled as she remembered 
how theology not many days since had come fluttering tlirough 
her window to help her in her decision. 

The next morning Sister Agnes bade farewell to the Con- 
vent walls to serve in a lovlier and better way the humanity 
of earth. 

« C. Ude 


Vol. 8. Jackson, Miss., May, 1906. No. 7. 

Published Monthly by the Students of Millsaps College. 

J. A. Baker... Editor-in-Chief 

W. A. Williams Associate Editor 

R. B. Carr Local Editor 

Frances Park — Literary Editor 

E. C. McGiLVRAY Alumni Editor 

L. E. Price Business Manager 

J. C. Neill, J. C. RoussEATJX Assistant Business Managers 

Remittances and business communications shoidd be sent to L. E. Price, 

Business Manager. Matter intended for publication should be 

sent to J. A. Baker, Editor-in-Chief. 

Issued the 1st op Each Month During the College Year. 
Subscription, Per Annum, $1.00 Two Copies, $1.50 Per Annum 

This college year has almost ended and what 
The Last have we achieved? Some of us have squand 
Chance! ed our time and money foolishly, have grossly 
neglected our duties; the greater per cent, of 
us, however, have done only fairly well, while some have done 
remarkably well and their work was conscientiously and hon- 
orably done. A few of us will go home with a falsehood upon 
our lips and tell our loving mother and father how ill we were 
treated by both teachers and students. Such boys have no 
place in such an institution, and should be forced to leave. 
But, I am glad to say, I think that there are but a few who would 
be lost to all sense of truth and honor, as to be guilty of such 
a dishonorable deed. 


Two terms have been finished and the end of the third 
is almost here. We have been laboring under most favorable 
auspices, good health and willing instructors have attended 
us in our labors, and our achievements should be above the 
average. Some, I know, have slept on their rights, and now 
that the final examinations are staring them full in the face, 
and with their past record before them, they have almost 
despaired of making a higher class. Yet there is hope for some 
of these if they would only do their work well. You have 
one more chance to redeem yourself and should you fail in this, 
you must pass over the same road next year. You have 
nothing to gain by being indifferent to your work, but every- 
thing to lose. In this age of progress, time is too precious 
to be lightly taken, you must be up and doing to keep in 
touch with the times. 

In every walk of life, there are two ways in achieving an 
end; one, by honest, the other, by dishonest means. In col- 
lege, both ways are common. If you do your work honestly 
and conscientiously, final success is assured. But should you 
try to attain success by dishonorable means, you will fail. 
A temporary success may be won, but the gilt and varnish 
will soon wear off and only the stain is left. Do not wear 
false honors, they are not lasting; but rather lead a humble 
and unpretentious life and be happy, than be false to yourself 
and to the world. I had rather see a man make an honest 
failure on an examination than pass by "jacking." To a great 
extent, a man's after life will be influenced by his work while 
in college. , 

It has been customary among a certain class of boys 
to leave just before the examinations commence. They forget 
that before they can again enter school they must be examined, 
and this test will be harder when they have had several months' 
vacation. An entire year may be lost in this way should they 
be unable to stand a satisfactory test. 

After the wear and tear of the examinations one of the 
most enjoyable parts of college life begins. The pleasures 
of commencement are many. We are no longer worried 
by the prospects of a zero on recitation, but our heart and 
mind are at ease. Why so many boys leave before com- 
mencement, I am unable to understand. Five days more 
away from home will not be felt, but would be enjoyed. We 
should be more patriotic and make the different features of 


commencement a greater success. Stay here until it is over 
and you will see how much our combined efforts have succeeded. 
Don't let it be said that there were none left to enjoy the com- 
mencement, and that the town people were more loyal than 
the college students. 

How hard it is to say good-bye! Many faces that 
Adieu! were unknown to us when school opened will be 
remembered by us for many years. Some, we will 
never forget; while there are others that are soon to be for- 
gotten. We part with our dearest friends this commencement, 
and some of them we may never see again. We have enjoyed 
and profited by the friendly words of encouragement or maybe, 
by that closer bond, that of friendship. 

When we part it is not farewell that we speak, but good- 
bye. Necessity forces us to part thus, but our hearts will 
continue to hold such friendly feelings uppermost. We are 
conscious, not only of the friendship that exists among the 
students, but also of that of the student to the teacher, and 
that of the teacher to the student. This feehng of mutual 
likes has influenced the boy to aspire to nobler achievements. 

But before we part I must express a part of what I owe to 
this institution, and to the professors and students. I have 
enjoyed the little I have done while here, and my only regret 
is that I didn't do more. This year has been one of the most 
pleasant, and at the same time, the most instructive; besides 
reaping the benefits of the recitation, I have received a most 
valuable training from my connection with the publication of 
this magazine. I have endeavored — though to what extent 
I have succeeded, you yourself can judge — to make this year's 
publication a success. In doing this, I have learned much that 
was valuable, and unlearned a good deal that was erroneous 
and of little use. And not least of all, I have found much 
pleasure in thus helping the little that I did in publishing the 
Collegian for your pleasure and benefit. 

But I must resign my position, now, in favor of one, let 
us hope, that will attain the end we have striven so earnestly 
to secure. May he profit by my mistakes and partial success! 



At a recent meeting of the Senior Class, Miss Frances V. 
Park was elected to respond to the welcome address from the 
Almnni Association to the Class of 1906. 

Prof. John C. French, M. A. (Harvard), Ph. D. (Johns 
Hopkins), Professor of Rhetoric and Narration in Johns 
Hopkins University, has consented to act as judge in the 
Collegian contest this year. The magazine is to be con- 
gratulated upon securing so competent a judge. 

On May 1, the Senior Class in Geology, with Dr. Sullivan, 
enjoyed a trip to Flora. Through the kindness of Mr. A. H. 
Bradley, they were furnished with horses and buggies with 
which they could go out to the petrified forests. All seemed 
to have a good time and felt fully repaid for their trip. 

The two Literary Societies celebrated their Anniversaries 
during the past month. The Galloways on the night of April 13, 
and the Lamars on the night of the 27th. E. D. Lewis was 
orator for the Galloways; L. E. Price, anniversarian, and Rev. 
Mr. Carpenter, of Meridian, delivered the annual address. 
For the Lamars: L. K. Carlton, orator; W. A. Williams, 
anniversarian, and Rev. Mr. Wilkinson, of Monroe, La., as out- 
side speaker. 

On Friday night, April 20, from 9 to 12 p. m., the Kappa 
Alpha fraternity entertained their friends at their chapter 
house. The hall, library, and reception rooms were decorated 
in the fraternity colors, crimson and old gold. Dainty re- 
freshments were served during the evening. They had as 
their guests the Senior classes from Millsaps and Belhaven, the 
Kappa Alpha Alumni in the city, two members of each of the 
other fraternities, and their young lady friends in town. Prof. 
Pitard's band furnished delightful music throughout the 

Millsaps is to be congratulated in having another medal 
offered this year. The D. A. R. Chapter of this city, through 
their regent, Mrs. C. M. Williamson, has offered a medal to the 
member of the Junior class who will write the best paper on 


some subject connected with the American revolution. The 
subject of the paper this year is: "The Boston Tea Party and 
Its Effect on the American Revolution." The judges of the 
contest will be selected, one by the D. A. R. Chapter; one by 
Dr. Murrah and one by Prof. J. E. Walmsley. Several have 
shown their interest by entering the contest as soon as the 
announcement was made and it is very likely that others will 
enter during the next few days. 

After a long illness, Mrs. G. W. Huddleston, the wife of 
Prof. Huddleston, died on May 5th. The funeral services 
were conducted by Dr. LaPrade and Dr. J. A. Moore, and 
interment was made in Greenwood cemetery, the faculty acting 
as pall bearers. Her loss will be widely felt in the entire 
college community in which Mrs. Huddleston was known and 
loved for her brightness and unceasing kindness. Her father, 
Dr. J. H. Bruner, was for many years the President of Hia- 
wassee College and Mrs. Huddleston inherited much of his 
ability and originality of thought, as was evident in her con- 
versation and her contributions to the current magazines. 
But it was her sympathy and loving kindness to those in sorrow 
or sickness that endeared her most to those who knew her; 
it was never failing and almost with out end, as many a student 
and neighbor can testify. Though ill herself, she was constantly 
in attendance upon Mr. Bowles last fall, doing all that could 
be done to lessen the patient's suffering. The sympathy of 
the entire student body goes out to Prof. Huddleston, to our 
classmates. Miss Bessie and Bruner, and to the entire family. 



"Lay Down Your Arms." 

(By Baroness Bertha von Suttner.) 

Although written ten years ago, Americans reader are 
just now discussing Baroness von Suttner's famous novel, 
"Lay Down Your Arms," which won for her the Nobel Peace 
Prize of $40,000. 

The author herself in an article in the "Independent" 
tells how she wrote the book: About 1880 there came to her 
the conviction that war was a barborous institution, and 
that it should be destroyed by the advance of civilization. 
She wrote to a peace and arbitration organization and obtained 


much information. Determined to write something on this 
peace question, her first plan was to tell the story of a young 
woman who had lost her husband on the battlefield, and be- 
cause of the tragedy suddenly awoke to a realization of the 
horrors of war. In research for the novellette, her material 
increased so that a two-volume novel was the result. 

The book went the rounds of the leading German pub- 
lishers, who thought it was too radical and would offend the 
public. Finally a Dresden publisher accepted it, and success 
followed. There are two American editions, one called, 
"Ground Arms," the other, the authorized one, by Messrs. 
Longmans, called, "Lay Down Your Arms." 

The foundation of the plot, as the title indicates, is the 
ardent condemnation of war. Beginning with her girlhood 
days as the young Countess Martha Althans, this Austrian 
woman tells the story of her life. Often quoting from her 
diary, she carries the story up to fifteen years after the death 
of her second husband. We are told in a thrilling style and 
in vivid detail of the days of the Austro-Italian, the Schleswig- 
Holstein, the Austro-Prussian, the Franco-Prussian, and the 
Franco-German wars. Although her father is a soldier, and 
she both times marries a soldier, Martha believes and never 
hesitates to acknowledge that war is repulsive in every way 
and belongs to the barbaric past. She believes that with the 
progress of society, not only war itself, but the love of war, 
will be found to diminish. 

The two most thrilling and horrible scenes in the book are 
during the Austro-Prussian war when the heroine journeys 
over the Bohemian battlefields in search of her husband, and 
afterward the description of her experiences during an epidemic 
of cholera and the sad death of almost the entire family. One 
passage when she is on the battlefield, although harrowing is 
realistic and well illustrates the style of the author: 

"And again the patrol goes on, nearer to the battle. 
In ever thicker swarms wounded men are tottering on, painfully 
creeping forward, singly or together. These are such as can 
walk. The contests of the field-flasks is distributed amongst 
these, a bandage is applied to such wounds as are bleeding, and 
the way to the ambulance pointed out to them. Then for- 
ward again. Over the dead — over hillocks of corpses! Many 
of these dead show traces of horrible agonies. Eyes staring 


unnaturally, hands grasping the ground, the hair of the beard 
staring out, teeth pressed together, lips closed spasmodically, 
legs stiffly outstretched — so they he. 

"There is not halting on the way, although on the right 
hand and on the left resound slirieks of woe and cries for help; 
and although also maey bullets fall among those who are thus 
hurrying on, and stretch one and another on the grounds — 
only onwards and over everything. Over men writhing with the 
pain of their wounds, men trodden down by horses, tearing 
over them, or crushed by guns passing over their limbs, and 
who, seeing the rescue corps, mutilated as they are, rear them- 
selves up for the last time. Over them, over them!" 

Through similar scenes and experiences, the last of which 
is her husband's unjust execution, the sword of Damocles 
seems always suspended over the head of the heroine, and it 
is almost incredible that insanity did not follow so much sorrow 
and suffering. fM f^; 

As to the value of the novel as a work of fiction, all readers 
must be impressed by its strength and general merit. True, 
there is the objection that all through the book we are reminded 
of its purpose — we are not left to see or find the moral for our- 
selves. Without doubt, better than a formal treatise could 
do, "Madame Suttner's vivid pages will enable those of us 
who have not seen anything of the ravages of war, or felt the 
griefs and anxieties of non-combatants, to realize the state 
in which people live on the Continent of Europe, under the 
grim "shadow of the sword." m^:W^. 

As the awarding of the Peace Prize testifies, it influenced, 
more than anything else, the Hague Conference. 

The book is gradually gaining in America that fame 
which it already has in Europe. Critics will perhaps agree 
with a Vienna paper, which in speaking of the peace question, 
said, "On this question, no authority is higher than that of the 
author of 'Lay Down Your Arms.' " Yet it is only the optimist 
who, I think, wUl agree with Baroness von Suttner's partisan 
view that: "Then novels and the forming of peace societies 
were important factors toward the advancement of the move- 
ment. But today it is has reached such a point and is associated 
with such high and decisive political problems, that the acts 
of the individual, in letters or societies, have been pushed 
into the background. It has become the question of the hour, 
and neither the energy of its originators nor the pleadings of 
its followers are now essential to its final triumph," 



The'class tree^ number of the',,"Emory Phoenix" surpasses 
all preceding issues. The departments are not so creditable 
as[usual but the contributions more than make amends for the 
shortcomings of the editors. The Senior Class History, though 
very lengthy, deserves unstinted praise. The description of 
the jindividuaL members, the narration of the incidents, real 
and invented, connected with their college careers are written 
so well that the history has a charm even for those not in- 
terested in the class. The class poem is verse of a high quality 
for a college publication. 

^vvp "The Kendall Collegian" if judged by the same standard 
as the^ Emory Phoenix, would deserve unfavorable criticism, 
but the college of which it is the organ is a school of different 
standard from the Emory College and hence the magazines 
should not be judged by the same standard. The article on 
Poe, though the style is far from smooth and flowing, contains 
some good thought and shows study and knowledge of the 
man. "A Conquest" is a story devoid of plot but fairly well 
written. The class prophecy is also well written and charac- 
teristics attributed to the members of the class are doubtless 
of interest to them and their friends. In "Greatness" the 
writer brings out a very old but also a very excellent thought 
as to what constitutes true greatness. 

"The Spectator" for April, maintains its usual standard. 
The local and exchange departments mark an improvement 
and reflect credit upon their editors. The editorials are 
somewhat neglected. The papers on Hamilton and Nuncomar, 
especially the latter, are worthy of mention. A thorough 
understanding of the disposition and character of the Bengalers 
is shown in this latter paper and the discussion is clear and 
simple. "A Didatic Poem" is verse of a humorous nature 
worthy of commendation. "A Mistaken Identity" is an in- 
teresting story written in smooth and easy style. 

The April number of the "Guilanian" is an excellent issue. 
Don Alessandro O'Reilly, for a historical paper, surpasses 
anything published in our exchanges for the year. It is 
a masterly and exhaustive discussion of the deeds and incidents 
connected with the life of that soldier of fortune. The style is 
clear, mature and strong, and the paper is proof of extensive 
research on the part of its author in its preparation. The paper 


on the "Fugitive Slave Law" throws light on the condition of 
affairs just prior to the civil war. Incidents are cited showing 
the non-enforcement of the law at the North, and the writer 
points out that the law was doomed to fail since it exasperated 
the Northerners because its enforcement was attempted, and 
enraged the Southerners because it was not successfully en- 
forced. "The Tragedy of a Bow of Blue Ribbon" is a short 
story cleverly told and very amusing. The Newcomb girl's 
being mistaken a second time for some one else springs a sur- 
prise on the reader and thus gives strength to the plot. "The 
Princess and the Page" is a carol that has a quaintness and a 
charm about it that are indescribable. 

"The Ouchita Ripples" for appropriate covers, good paper, 
and clear print is one of our best exchanges. The article on 
the "American Navy" deserves to be complimented for thought, 
style and diction. "Fifteen years after" is a story fairly well 
written but the conversi6n of the lover should have been 
accomplished in a more subtle manner and not have monopo- 
lized so much space of a love-story whose denouement was 
to be the marriage of the lovers. "The Outlook of the South" 
is an instructive discussion of the resources and development 
of the South, and impresses one with the belief that our future 
is bright. Of the various departments the literary depart- 
ment reflects most credit upon its editor. 


There was a professor in college. 
Who covered a corner in knowledge; 
He oozed Latin roots 
From the head to the boots, 
And used a Roman doxoledge. — Ex. 

A lady, from out Iowa, 
Was taking a stroll one day; 

Her mugget was lost, 

At a very great cost, 
And it made the poor girl trist-e. — Ex. 

She said: "Give us our daily bread," 
Then heaved a little sigh 
And said: "Tomorrow night, mama, 
I'm going to pray for pie." — Ex. 



0, power of love, come down from cibove, 
And bless this skippery ham; 
And bring us some meat that's fit to eat, 
For this ain't worth a d . — Ex. 

Why is it that the tomcat 
Makes discord when he sings? 

Because the horrid tomcat 

Is filled with fiddle strings. — Ex. 

Owen Moore came to town one day, 
Owen Moore than he could pay; 
Owen Moore left town that day, 
Owen Moore. — Ex. 


I shall arise and go down to the East; 

There shall I offer in the light of morn 

A sacrifice that I may be re-born 
To a new life, and from the old released. 
Too long have I held place at Circe's feast, 

No more will I with crowns her hair adorn. 

The while she hold an honest heart in scorn. 
And values it among her booty least, 
For me the morrow calls, I shall obey; 

And from me cast the glamour of her spell — 
The false enchantment of her drowsy eyes. 
In morning's light I see the fairer way. 

Whose paths turn from the open Gates of Hell, 
And I will follow it; — I shall arise! — Ex. 

ITS T. :b. do^cey^ 


MAKE 138 Capitol St. Jackson, Miss. 




The Jones Drug Stores 

West Jackson and Up town. 


308 W. Capitol Street. 


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Special Prices Made to College Students and Societies. 
CALL TO SEE US. 213 S. State Street 

Phone 380. JACKSON, MISS