come again no more" when we sweltered and snoozed in the hot darkness or gaped like Baron Trenck at the vermin on the wall.

The famous first floor of North middle, whose rear rooms were formerly so full of old boots, beetles, and stovepipes, that they seemed to combine the facilities of an entomological museum with those of the "old Curiosity Shop," whose mythic inhabitants were so poor, that the very bedbugs lived on tickeven this mouldy establishment has been remoulded-it has turned pale with astonishment at the presence of the "genius of Improvement," and

"In those holes where I did once inhabit," (No. 78)

Those big professorial

all is now purity, and it is hoped there will be peace. In the Chapel also there have been great changes. boxes at the West End of the sanctuary have been cut up for Junior and Sophomoric accommodation, as economical housewifes cut out jackets for the little folks from the time-honored habiliments of their grandfathers. The observatories in the center have been made small enough to hold two lean occupants in summer clothing; and two triumphal chariots have been so ingeniously constructed between the doors, that hereafter all evacuating Freshmen will be compelled to look out for the tutors and the benediction. One cannot but admire the self-sacrifice of men, who for the public weal consent to sit among the heathen of that benighted and rheumatic region, where so little of the Gospel is heard, that their sentry boxes might be appropriately transferred to the jurisdiction of the commissioners for foreign missions.

Breathing spells are as necessary for students as for whales. Therefore thrice welcome be vacations. But let no unwary member of the Senior class ever spend another vacation in New Haven. We came back here for a short time, and found a devoted individual with haggard face and dirty shirt, yawning at the great tenantless stacks of brick, looking as desolate as a Freshman in the ocean, and clinging to his walking stick, as if it were the topmast of a wreck. When he wandered off among the college buildings,

"The sun's eye had a vacant stare,

The mice were few and wan;

And skeletons of bedbugs were
Around that lonely man."

A

The rooms were vacant. The walks were vacant. The notices upon the trees were either washed vacant, or had gone off in company with a wind that had lost his way. The orange boys were bankrupt. The bell was dumb. Morning, noon, and night came at twenty-five minutes past three. Time was ended. single cricket, whose querulous note was solemn as that of a bittern over the ruins of Babylon, moaned a Jeremiade over the life and joy of Commencement week, when streets, hotels, and churches, the hall of the Brothers, and the hearts of candidates for admission were all full to overflowing.

Far different, it is to be hoped, was the experience of most of our readers. Doubtless ye enjoyed yourselves hugely in revisiting the haunts of your childhood-getting up at noon to see the sun rise upon the White mountains-making faces before breakfast at Saratoga Spa-getting on swimmingly at Newport,

putting up at S. T. Nichols' tavern in Gotham-reading republican newspapers and aristocratic bills of fare-walking, riding, singing, kissing, spreeing, and raising promiscuous Ned generally:

"Ah! them 'appy 'ours."

The best joke we have heard during vacation originated in Union Square, N. Y. Colonel Smith called upon Mr. Jones to solicit a subscription for the equestrian statue of Washington, lately erected there. Mr. Jones said "No, Washington does 'nt need monuments in order to be remembered." "Yes," says the Colonel, "but here is an ornament to your house, an improvement to your property-your neighbors have all paid something-wont you?" "No, sir, I don't believe in it-I don't want any statue of Washington myself. I've got him here, sir, in my heart." Well," said the other, "all I've got to say is that if you've got Washington in your heart, you've got him in a-thundering tight place." "Good day, Mr. Jones."

Ona calm, dreamy morning, in the latter part of vacation, we took a delightful walk into the country, and by and by encountered a big boy, perched on a huge mass of mica schist, and hammering away like Hephaestus upon the back of Prometheus Vinctus. Thinking to test the fellow's knowledge, we asked him if he knew what kind of stone that was? "Yes, sir," replied the young geol ogist, "It's curbin' stun."

While we are in the vein we will tell one more story about going out West. We had to make a stop of forty-eight hours at Buffalo, in consequence of a break in the road. Misery loves company, and we soon formed the acquaintance of an elderly lady, who, what with long traveling and long waiting, and taking care of a sprightly little grandchild, was well nigh exhausted. At length we started. Night came on, and Mrs. C. wanted very much to get a little rest. I told her to try and get a nap, and I would be on the look out for her stopping place, and wake her up when we got there. She was to stop at Painseville, Ohio. The rain was pattering upon the windows, and after trying for a while to talk with a friend in another car, about midnight I forgot myself, and fell fast asleep. Soon, however, the stopping of the cars, accompanied by a confused noise, woke me up. I started from the seat, and seeing a man with a carpet bag leaving the car, I hurriedly asked what place that was. He replied that it was Painesville. Off I sprang to the other car, shook Mrs. C. violently, seized the baby in one hand, and two baskets, a bonnet, and a tin-pail in the other, and triumphantly landed the entire establishment upon the platform just as the cars were starting.

After this act of gallantry, I returned to my seat, wondering a moment why Mrs. C.'s friends were not waiting to meet her, and then with great satisfaction composed myself for another snooze. In about an hour I was rubbing my eyes open, just as the train stopped again, The brakeman thrust his head into the ear, and to my inconceivable horror thundered out-PAINSEVILLE!

Merciful powers! It flashed upon me in an instant. I had put out the lady at the wrong place. On that rainy midnight I had bundled her out, bag and baggage, at a watering station, twenty miles from home. Mrs. C. is a very

estimable lady. But I never want to see her again, unless I can have the privlege of saving her life.

But it is high time to get back to college. The first business upon the docket was of course electioneering. The first week each society was about a half a dozen ahead of the other—reminding one very strongly of the two snakes each of which ate the other up. But of course the great day of the feast was Statement of Facts. Perhaps the most entertaining passage in the speeches of the Brothers was the attempt to show that the failure of their men to take the De Forest medal was owing to "Providential circumstances." On the other hand decidedly the most metaphysical exercise of the day was to trace out the relation of ideas, in the somewhat abstruse demonstration that Linonia had taken a hundred and forty-five valedictories during an existence of a hundred and three years.

While the Junior orators were fighting over the possession of Calhoun, as, according to the Rabbinical tradition, St. Michael and the arch-fiend contended for the body of Moses, the Freshmen were petrified at beholding the most wonderful apparition which has been witnessed since the downfall of the house of Usher. Up the broad aisle solemnly stalked the portly presence of General Humphreys, dressed in full regimentals. He was full six feet high, and of a florid complexion. Upon his arm leaned a decrepit old man, dressed in tight breeches and black silk stockings, with an old-fashioned coat reaching from his gray hair down to his well fitting pumps. Even before the old gentleman had

cast an approving smile upon a Sophomore, who was hissing the Brothers, all men had read in the wrinkles of his goblin face the name of William Wickham. As for the General he was all punctilio, and awe was turned into admiration at the martial grace with which he extinguished a daring urchin who was making faces at the audience, just beneath the platform, as if to help out the action of the speaker. When last seen by mortals, the two specters were celebrating their resurrection over an oyster stew at Mac's.

The most exciting occurrence since the appearance of these tutelar divinities is the great feud in the Senior class, with regard to their portraits. For a longer period than the great battle of Xeres de la Frontara lasted, the photographers and the Lithographers have been engaged in mortal strife. If the speakers at the class meeting had "been taken in the act," naturalists would have pronounced them a gallery of maniacs. The Lithographers roundly asserted that the photographs either would last or they would not. If they did last they would be so freckled and speckled they might be mistaken for the representation of the spotted moon in the beginning of Olmsted's Astronomy. If they did not last, but gradually turned black as was predicted, they would con"ey to posterity the erroneous impression that the class of '57 was composed entirely of gentlemen from Africa.

On the other hand, it was objected that the little distorted image in the midst of the blank page of a lithograph bore so scanty a resemblance to the original, that for all practical purposes they might as well get one of those old missionary maps, which represent a monkey sitting on one of the cannibal islands, grinning at the Pacific ocean.

"Non nostrum inter nos magnas componere lites."

We can only urge a compromise which might perhaps be effected by first photographing the monkey, and then lithographing the freckles.

Dear reader, we should like to chat a little longer with you, but small type is getting scarce, and you'll have to call at the Sanctum for further particulars. There are only two objections to this arrangement. In the first place you never could find the Sanctum, and in the second place you would be scared to death after you got there. We cannot reveal the secrets of the Board. But if you could only look into the inner chamber of our office, and see the Corporal and the Doctor, Shanghai and the twin giants Mishkan and Meerschaum, keeping guard like Pope and Pagan, near the door, and then get away unblinded by the avenging smoke, you would be one of the most remarkable of living men.

One word to those who have so promptly responded to the call for subscriptions. Especially to the stalwart men of '60. We believe they have subscribed more generally than any preceding class. They are wise. Before they get to be very old, these Magazines, containing as they do the external history of their college life, and enshrining many of the dearest memories which can brighten futurity, will be as priceless as the Sybil's leaves. We hope, gentlemen, that you may escape the quicksands of matriculation and biennial, of ophthalmia and dyspepsia, and at last come out gloriously with the Senioric "plug" whiskers and "sheepskin." Meanwhile, we would remark that the YALE LITERARY MEDAL is open to all classes: and those of you who write and take it will show yourselves to be worthy of companionship with those literary giants, who have received it from all antiquity. Perhaps you may even get up to the Teneriffean peak of an editorship yourselves, and have the privilege of paying for a medal out of your own breeches pockets.

If you do, we hope that all artists and necromancers, all players upon wind or stringed instruments, may be as polite to you as the agent of the Continentals was to us. Their singing was delightful. In many respects it surpassed any that we ever heard. Their strains did not linger upon the outward ear and charm the hearer with mere indolent enjoyment, but went right to the soul and made it strong for deeds of patriotism and duty. This is music's noblest function.

In New York also, we found the Editorial office to be an "open Sesame" to Barnum's Museum. On the strength of our connection with the Lit. we saw the great whale, preparatory to its being skinned and pickled, the skunks, lions, and sea calves, Mount Vesuvius and the Happy Family, the whistle made out of a pig's tail, and the unhappy man who had reduced himself to a "living skeleton" by trying to count the votes of the ladies for Fremont.

Therefore, by all means strive to be Editors, and, while you are waiting, get some one of your class, of strong physical organization, who has the best interests of Maga at heart, to inflict severe corporal chastisement upon "the Corporal," and so raise a sympathy which will run the subscription list up to 50,000 copies.