72
The University Courier.
LITERARY.
Negatives.
While passing two little children the other day, I heard one ask, "Are you going to Jimmie's old party?" "Ye-a," the other replied, in great surprise, "I've got to go. I'm invited." And as I went on, I thought how well this expressed the sentiments of our friends when they attend our average class-day exercises.
Student as witness in an "assault and battery" case.
Judge.—"You say the man was conscious when you helped him up.Did he know you?" Student.一"Apparently."
Jugde. —“What did he say to you?"
Student.一“Let me go! you d—d thick-headed chump." ___
He was at the skating carnival, and as he glided about among the crowd of fantastic maskers, he amused himself by endeavoring to find out who each one was. Several times he was successful, and was very much pleased with his own shrewdness when he discovered that there were several boys in the company dressed as girls. Upon making this discovery he determined to follow the next couple that passed him and watch them closely. Thinking that he perceived a resemblance between the young lady and a certain boy of his acquaintance, he skated up behind her and, putting his arms around her, lifted her nearly off her feet. It is not too much to say that the young man was dumfounded when the supposed boy turned upon him and exclaimed, in a tone of scorn, "Sir!"
A restless feeling pervaded the class room as the dinner hour approached. For two long hours the physical man had remained cramped in the regulation university chair while the unwilling mind had tried to concentrate itself upon the driest text that was ever bound in sheep—the technicalities of contract-law.
The scraping of feet, the snapping of numerous watches, at last warned the professor that attention was no longer to be expected. With a reluctant hand he closed the awe-inspiring volume, but before dismissing the impatient class, he said: "Gentlemen, I am confident that you are all of the opinion that the text is somewhat ah—dry. Our recitation is long, and possibly your instructor is not as interesting as some other eminent lecturers." Cries of "hear! hear!" and loud applause interrupted the speaker at this point, but after a moment he proceeded to kill the class by relating in a pathetic voice, the following hoary headed chestnut: "I have in mind a little incident of western life which perhaps fittingly illustrates the good will you have manifested toward me. While attending divine service in Deadwood, I noticed the following sign, placed conspicuously in front of the congregation,'-Don't shoot the organist, he's doin' his best.'"
Old Aunt Sylvia is a character, especially in University society. As far back as the present generation can remember this old colored woman has been doleing out "fortunes" to University boys and girls; and these "fortunes," whether true or false, have gone forth and have influate lives of men and women-perhaps the destiny of a great state. On sunny afternoons the old crone can be seen sitting before her open doorway, basking in the sunshine. She is now bent almost double and her silvery white hair sets off in marked relief her old black wrinkled face, with its deep-set piercing little eyes. You cannot but believe there is some truly prophetic warning in her halting trembling accents, as you see her forecasting with solemn mien the destined future of perhaps the daughter of one of her former fearfully superstitious questioners.
I visited old aunt Sylvia the other afternoon with one of the most charming and yet the most thoughtless and superstitious of maidens. She was much disturbed by the gloomy forecast of her future the old crone had given her. But I somewhat allayed her fears when I reminded her that it was only a year ago that the same old woman had assured her that she could not live a year, and that she was at present a very lively corpse.
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