cion warranted by past occurrences-that by the Advisory Committee, she may annul an agreement after it has been entered into, we can better afford to make an agreemen with Princeton alone than to submit to such dictation or expose ourselves to the possibility of such treatment. It may be safely said that it is at present our earnest wish to play Princeton next fall. Are we ready to do so on the same terms and exposed to the same dangers as in the season just closed? Shall we once more send our team to play two great games, with an interval of four days between them, against teams each of which prepares for a single contest? Have we learned this year's lesson, or must we go back and learn it again? Shall we insist on an arrangement of dates which will give us time to get into condition for the second contest, but will force us to bring our team to championship form twice in a season? Or shall we refuse to take chances of one in four, of beating in succession two teams which do not meet, and decline to play Princeton on any terms until she has arranged for a game with Harvard? These are the questions which are now before the football authorities and the University. They are easier to ask than to answer. Of one thing at least we can rest assured-that if we are as worthily represented in council during the days that are coming as we have been in the field during those just passed, we shall have no cause to be ashamed of the record made, whatever it may be.

H. A. S.

PORTFOLIO.

A VIEW.

From the hill-top high where the cedars stand,

Alone, with their scattered shade

One looks far down on the rolling land,

Into valley, field and glade.

'Tis mid-day now; in the close cut fields
Where the guarded wheat is stacked,
To the grazing kine the brown earth yields
Green tufts, by the scythe untracked,
On their glossy backs the August sun,
Strikes with its fervid heat,

As up the steep slope, one by one,
They move with slow drawn feet.

Now 'tis eventide; at the fallen bar

In the old stone wall the herdsman calls,
"Come Pride-Hie Pet, Come Bonnie Star!"

As up o'er the fields the shadow crawls.
All is still around save the cricket's song

As I watch them pass through the farm yard gate
Darker the trees shade their way along,

To the open doors, which their coming wait.

J. B. S.

-Tall, spare, and antiquated in his general appearance he was indeed a type of the old school. He seemed to be one who had outlived his time and was now living, as it were, in the remembrance of the past. Rittenhouse Academy, now but a relic of its former self, in its general architecture and interior decorations was in singular accord with its master. All of its surroundings had fallen in with the rapid advance of time; but this little old-fashioned building sunk back in seclusion from the busy street, with its odd belfry and queer steps leading up to an equally queer door, had about itself an air of defiance to the change of time and merited pride in its own uniqueness. On entering that door, which in the school-boy mind shut in an atmosphere of exceeding discomfort, the eye was met with rows of old fashioned desks artistically carved by former occupants, but now serviceable to only a few.

The one large room was the sole seat of learning in Rittenhouse. The black-boards were no longer black; they stood to testify the trials which they had suffered. And the map of the United States, carefully hung where the absence of plaster would be most noticable, credited our country with territories altogether out of the proper proportion. Up in one corner, on a platform ascended by two steps, was the old man's throne. It was from that exalted position that he was wont to send forth the words of wisdom and sway the awe-inspiring and, very often, painful-to-be-felt ruler.

As I entered the familiar place and looked upon those same thing which had made so lasting an impression, the "old man "—he was old even in my time-came down from his lofty seat to greet me. He never failed to recognize one of his "boys." As he came toward me, bent in person and unsteady in gait, but with a glad smile of recognition and welcome upon his face, my heart went out to him. I saw no longer the grim tyrant of former days, but a very human old man, broken down in his loneliness, whose life was-the past.

We went over some of the old times together, and then I left him. I did not think that I should ever again see him— he was so very old-and I went away with a feeling akin to pity, only it was more than that.

L. MCK.

-The docks and wharves where the stout, brave ships lie, ready to go to sea, are down by the embankment, a mile away. The tide is in, and has covered the dreary waste of mud upon the banks. The river roars sullenly on, and is churned up by the screws of steamers. At midnight, when the moon dashes in and out behind the driving clouds, there are accidents; a few are drowned, and lonely men in row-boats hunt all the next day for the recovery of the bodies. In the early morning, before the dawn, wagons come to take away to market the fish which have been caught during the night, and through both night and day the river is restless, impatient to get out to the open sea. It has come from the hills in the distance, babbling with excitement for its journey. It rushed madly over stones and boulders with the impetuosity of youth, leaping and playing merrily in the sunlight. Then it grew older and more dignified, and began to roll more sluggishly in a broader channel, past villages and detached houses on the

bank. At the entrance to the city its face has grown black with the knowledge of suffering, and crime, and dirt. So it goes onward, a little faster, perhaps, to the sea, where it is petted and caressed. It plays and gambols with the waves, and obeys the great voice of the wind, which whistles through the stunted trees upon the cliff, and fills with fear the hearts of the mothers and wives who sit knitting in the little coasthomes, where a cheery fire awaits the sailor lads whose ships. are tossing with the storm beyond the horizon. And the waves rush on and on, chasing each other over the bottomless ocean, till they roll madly on the opposite shore; and the sand hisses wildly in defiance of the sea's victorious unending battle against the land.

But it is pleasanter to follow the river up to its source among the mountain tarns and waterfalls, where the children wade in its cool water, surrounded by flowers and water lilies, and slender, graceful reeds, waving in the breeze. They do not fear it like the poor creatures down below in the city, who stand upon the bridges watching it night after night. It reflects and multiplies the lights of the sleeping city, and they dare not seek its company, but continue to gaze into its deep cool mass. So they return each night to the place that they call home, and come back the next night, with a deadly fascination, to the bridge. But the river rolls on and on, splashing gently against the dark bulwarks of the vaulted arches of the bridge, with a sound so gentle that it scarcely disturbs the soft, rhythmical hum of the city's busy streets, which rises with especial gentleness upon the night air, and wafts itself above its myriad lights and the blaze of factories.

R. S. W.

-Owing to the extreme religious views formerly entertained by the citizens of New Haven public amusements in this city occupied, until within the last fifty years, an exceedingly minute and microscopic position. One of the earliest items that we have concerning games and amusements in our city, is a warning, read in 1661, to a certain Goodwife Spinnage, charging her with allowing young persons to play at cards after nightfall in her house. The good dame acknowledged her evil but laid the blame on Goodman Heaton, who confessed his great sinfulness and recorded his solemn oath to live circumspectly henceforth until the day of Judgment;

whereupon the council was satisfied and suspended judgment. When, however, the second generation began to tie its own shoestrings and think for itself, "mixt dances," and "immoderate playing at any sport" became less a thing of fault and more a matter of enjoyment. We have no doubt that the second generation danced and held hops and husked corn with a zeal and zest hardly equalled by the more sedate but not less social events of the present day. Especially when the college came, and the pigskin began to be kicked about the college yard, as a drawing in the library shows it to have been, the troubles of the town fathers knew no end, and found a release at last in a gentle and natural decease. Then with the advent of Linonia and Brothers the annual exhibitions began to take place, and the populace, enlivened by college jokes gradually left their Book of Lamentations, and came and bought dime tickets to the college hall, where these wonderful performances were given. Linonia's stage was once graced by the future President Dwight, and in the same year, 1772, a wonderful play was produced, entitled "The Beaux's Stratagems," and to elicit this mysterious title James Hillhouse and Nathan Hale, the martyr spy, wore the buskins.

But when the amateur theatricals had once taken root, it was not long before the first real and professional entertainment was presented, by a company of traveling actors. The 3d of April, 1800, saw the first bill board in New Haven, and around its posted notice the crowd of gaping men and boys read the startling announcement, "This evening at Mr. Booth's Hall, will be presented a variety of theatrical entertainment called an Evening's Regale." The crowd of students and townspeople who doubtless filled the house first listen to a "Monody on the death of George Washington," followed by "A new popular song 'Nong, Tong, Paw; or John Bull's Trip to France." After the immense applause for this has subsided a new song, "Bucks; have ye at all," is rendered, eliciting deafening applause. Then comes "The humorous satirical sketch called 'The Drunken Man,' as wrote by Kippesly," in the midst of which some student, unable to contain his enthusiasm, is hustled out by a tutor, being treated to sundry whacks on the head with a gold-headed cane the meanwhile. "To which will be added a celebrated Pantomime