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dropped off, leaving one-fourth of all our hopes in the dilapidated and multifarious crookedness of a phonographic alphabet.

We glanced round for one of Davy Crockett's alligators, or Sinbad's roc, or, perchance, a stray griffin of Oceanus. But we were forced to exclaim, in the language of the poet, "Nix-cum-a-rous.” Far ahead on the head of å steep bill we descried the other omnibus, and a thrill of joy shot through our vitals as we whispered, “We may yet be saved.” With all the energy of hope battling with despair-we ran-we sprang-we flew like gad-fly-goaded Io, and shortly piled, pell-mell, upon the wretched occupants of the groaning 'Buss like volcanic strata upon the wandering sheep of Mount Vesuvius.

To define our position it will be simply necessary to throw up thirty or forty coppers and see if “ Liberty” or “One cent" is visible. Then suppose all the heads upon the coppers suddenly to become vocal with all the notes of lamentation and suffocation shrieked through all the octaves of despair, add four buffaloes (skins) and eighty cubic feet of cigar smoke, and you will have a faint idea of a night of horrors, which may have been dimly experienced by the inmates of the black-hole or the brazen bull of Perillus.

Three mortal miles out of our directest way rolled our itinerant conglomeration of human extremities, either because Jebu like Hogarth thought that curved lines were the most graceful, or because he wished to avoid throwing a silver sop to the Cerberus of East Haven bridge. At last when the pangs of hunger were fast approaching the agonies of compression and strangulation, and we ominously began to look around for the big boots that we might knock in the head some of the lower tier, and thus keep the upper department from starvation—there was a sudden pause. Our thirty cents' worth of misery and mystery was expended. In the language of Justice, "we had been taken to the place from whence we came.” We feebly muttered “Home.” Slowly and solemnly we emerged from our living sepulchre. Then did the extent of our suffering become evident. Out of so many that but a few hours before had started forth in the pride of manhood and the dignity of Sophomores, and the 'Buss of the Fair Haven 'Buss Company, a scanty remnant only congratulated themselves upon their deliverance. Some could not tell the time of night. More than half a dozen were compelled to reanimate the vital spark with calorified decoctions of testaceous bivalves. Scarcely one had sufficient strength to carry home the skates he had borrowed that very afternoon, and more than half the devoted band were utterly unable to zigzag to public devotions on the ensuing morning.

Archibald Braxton.

[Continued from page 154.]

TIME dragged slowly at the Grange. Faces shaded with mute sorrow, absence of the usual joyousness and mirth,-even the associations which a thousand little objects brought to memory,—served to make home wearisome and sad. It was almost a relief when the second day of separation came; there was no reluctance in departure from the scenes which were constantly reminding of the dead, by the bitter contrast of the present and the past.

It was hard to come back. Sympathizing glances and the warm and earnest pressure of a friendly hand, the subdued tones, and the gentleness of manner with which all met a sorrowing classmate, though they brought a pleasure, it was not unmixed with pain. He turned almost for relief to compliance with the harsh rules of the College law. It jarred sadly with the finer feelings,—it was hard, with the heart weighed down and the spirit broken, to engage in double labor, and with no allowance for the mental anguish, be compelled to enter on severer duty than all others, as atonement for the absence. But the laws of College know not the existence of the heart'; they acknowledge one God, and its name is—Intellect.

There are times when the very measures of cold policy, from the indignation which their utter disregard of feeling must inspire, will create a new life in the object of their rigor, and it was the best thing for the mourner that these pressing duties, and a sense of their unkindness, robbed him of the moments of reflection and the memory of the past.

Weeks flew by, and Biennial was approaching. To a stranger who should pass by the old buildings at the hour of midnight, and see light streaming through the panes of many windows, hear the hum of voices, mingled now and then with the noise of laughter, or a general scuffle, it would be a question of somewhat perplexing nature to discover what could be the occupation of the inmates. And if passing by again a few hours later he should see the same light, hear the same sound,—he would gain a bad opinion of the habits and dissipation of a College life. But, my dear Sir, they are simply cramming, drawing inspiration from the classics and Souchong, or, perhaps, from the mathematics and the purest Mocha. Follow up the long dark passage, over these four



wretchedly uneven flights of stairway, and you will be able to know better how the thing is done. Rap, tap,—we will introduce you.

In the previous chapter the interior of a College room has been described and with sundry alterations of the reader's fancy, it will serve us as a type. But the grouping and the general characteristics of the scene are different. There are something more or less than a dozen present, piled or tumbled, as you please to term it, in most picturesque if not graceful attitudes about the room. Sans coat, sans boots, sans “ weskit,” and cravat, they are evidently trying to be much at ease. Inverted chairs, tilted to support the head and shoulders, while the floor assumes the weight, are in wonderful demand; those who have not been fortunate to secure these are endeavoring to derive some compensation by a general stretch-out, and a free use of the body of a luckier friend in the place of cushions. The plump, rosy, pippin-faced individual in the corner, is particularly favored. Perhaps the easy and good humored grunts which he sends forth now and then as a token of disapprobation, mark him as a special object to be teased. Or, the sport afforded, as, discovering this to be of no use, he resorts to muscular exertion, in the language of another individual of the party, is "con-sum-mate." The gratification of the four friends, who are quartered on him, seems to be unbounded. He of the long legs and slim body answering to the appellation “shanks," is so really and entirely occupied with the torment of the “pippin," that the open Odyssey is scarcely heeded. Are these Master Slenders envious of the modern Falstaffs—why else do the lean men persecute the fat? We have made the interruption to present it as a psycho-well, if not a psychologic, a most curious fact.

Seated in the most approved Eastern style upon the table, which is made to do the duty of a temporary throne, is the lion of the evening, the "Magister Equitum, (for the benefit of the uninitiated we will translate,) " Poney-reader.” Two large Etnas boil furiously upon the hearth-stone, and the hissing of the flame beneath a chafing dish, coupled with the grateful odor of stewed products of Fair Haven, are the most convincing proofs that the “cramming” is not all intended for the brain. Meanwhile, the assembled party are endeavoring to follow with their text books the translation which falls glibly from their friend upon the table.

Then arose much-planning Ulysses, and brandishing his mighty spear,

he cried aloud—“ Tom, are those oysters done yet ?” “Don't see anything of that kind in the text," was the grave response.

" Pshaw, you know what I mean, I really think they must be, let's finish up this section and refresh.”

Again the reading goes on for some minutes till the book is endedclosed with a loud slap, and the party gratified by Tom's information that “all 's ready, and in prime condition.”

"Where's Archy ?"
“Send after Archy.”

Wait a moment and I 'll serve a summons on him,” exclaimed "Pippin;" and sitting down he dashed off the following:

By authority of the “ Crowd of Souchongs," you are hereby commanded to appear at meeting of the S. C., in N. M., on July 10th, at 12] P. M., then and there to help, aid, assist and succor in devouring whatsoever said Crowd shall have then provided.

Signed, Dated at Yale College, 185–

Præs. Souch. "Come along now, gentlemen ; where 's my posse comitatus ?" and seizing a boot in one hand, while the other held the summons, he crossed the entry and commenced a thundering tattoo upon Braxton's door.

“Open in the name of the law l-Come, come, Archy, there is no use in resistance, the decrees of the Souchong are unchangeable as the Medes and Persians, you know; can't let you be making a blue of yourself,” he continued, good humoredly, as he saw our friend still inclined to offer a remonstrance,—that is right, a few moments frolic and we 'll put the foluungis' through in fine style.”

Books were now thrown aside, each one helping himself to the tea and oysters, and a conversation on the all-engrossing topic became general.

"Have you your Biennial pantaloons yet ?"

"No, Chatterly's at work upon them ; gets up a good article don't he! the last Class rushed all analytics on his wristbands last year.”

“Well, I only hope we don't get some formulas, that 's all, or rushes will be scarce in spite of wristbands."

Come, fellows, hurry up, we ’ve three more books of the Odyssey yet, before we put through the Alcestis.”

“ Wide awake, wide awake.” Con-sum-mate !"

“One more cup of tea, and a polka,"--and whistling an accompaniment, away go Shanks and Pippin on a full swing around the room. Others join in with an utter disregard of chairs and crockery, bumping this, upsetting that, and demolishing the other, until tired out and awakened they are ready for “the three books" and continuance of the

cramming. Wishing them an easy "scheme" and successful effort on the morrow, we prefer to leave them.


“Naught that's mortal long can last,
And Biennial is past;
Every rush and fizzle made

Every body frigid laid.” The transition from the drudgery of Sophomore to the independence of the Junior year, the realization of the thought that they were now members of the “upper Classes,” and permission to engage behind North Middle in that manly occupation usually accorded to, as a known perogative of the Juniors, (we refer of course to their classic recreation, p-tch-ng c—ts,) the whole tenór, in short, of the Junior life was adapted to dispel the recollections of the past. The exertions of the Sophomore year and Biennial labor, seemed to have exhausted all the energy of study and to make them look upon the Junior as a year of pleasure. Every afternoon saw crews sauntering along Chapel street and displaying to the

gaze of lady passers the trim boating costume with its jaunty manof-war hat, and exquisite carelessly loose tie. Every moonlight evening swift boats shot out on the calm bay of New Haven, bearing fair freight to the Oh Fort or the Light, and the song of manly voices kept time to the oar-beat, or came floating on the waters in reply and challenge to the softer echoes from some favored boat, now and then perhaps accompanied by the sweet tones of the flute.

Picnics were planned, and the rough sides of Mount Carmel, and the steeps of Roaring Brook lent their aid to pleasure, and were frequent witness of flirtations and good cheer. The old rooms of North Middle all at once seemed to become vocal

forth catches suited to the parlor or the serenade, rather than the smoky atmosphere or the boisterous merriment of College. Nor was this all, for, unlike the vocal Memnon, old North Middle sent forth sounds continually, far from sweet toned or harmonious; the violin squeaked, flute squealed, and flageolet burst forth in shrill screams at all seasons, to the great discomfiture of studious Freshmen on the ground floor, or the envious Sophomores in the room above. The handles of the foils were dusty and the boxing-gloves kicked in exile underneath the lounge; portraits of great musical composers had replaced the torn-down etchings which had portrayed “Tipton Slasher” and the glories of the

gamecock and the Union races. Mysterious looking parties, cloaked, and with

and to pour

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