Hume carries a full line of Ladies and Gents Fine Shoes. Call on him at 829 Mass. St.
The University Weekly Courier.
PUBLISHED EVERY FRIDAY MORNING BY THE COURIER COMPANY.
GEO, I. ADAMS,...Editor-in-Chief
RALPHE, V. VALENTINE,...Local Editor
BUSINESS MANAGERS :
J. F. CARLSON. | M. L. ALDEN.
Entered at the post office at Lawrence, Kansas as second class matter.
UNIVERSITY DIRECTORY.
SOCIETIES.
SOCIETIES.
Pharmaceutical Society—Meets in the Lecture room, Chemistry building, every other Friday at 3 p. m., E. F. Wallick, president; Miss Mary Chapin, secretary.
Adelphic Literary Society—Meets in Adelphic hall, University building, south wing, 3d floor, every Friday evening at 8 o'clock.
FRATERNITIES.
Phi Beta Kappa—Honorary collegiate fraternity.
Sigma Xi—Honorary scientific fraternity.
Beta Theta Pi—Meets every Saturday evening on 4th floor of Opera House block.
Phi Kappa Psi—Meets every Monday evening at the homes of its members.
Phi Gamma Delta—Meets every Saturday evening at the homes of its members.
Phi Delta Theta—Meets every Saturday evening on third floor of Journal building.
Sigma Nu—Meets every Saturday evening on 3rd floor of Eldridge House block.
Sigma Chi—Meets every Saturday evening on the third floor of Opera House block.
Kappa Alpha Theta—Meets every Saturday afternoon at the homes of members.
Kappa Kappa Gamma—Meets every Saturday afternoon in its hall 2d floor K. of P. hall.
Pi Beta Phi—Meets every Saturday afternoon at the homes of members.
CUBS.
Science Club—Meets in Chemistry Building every other Friday at 8 p. m., President, Dana Templin; Secretary, E. S. Tucker.
Seminary of Historical and Political Science—Meets in room 14, University building, every Friday from 4 to 5. F. W. Blackmar, director.
Philological Club—Meets in room No. 20, University building, every other Friday at 8 p. m.
Camera Club—Meets once a month. President, Prof. Williston; Secretary, E. C. Case.
Telegraph Club—President, Prof. L. I. Blake; Secretary, E. Blaker.
Memorabilia Club—For the collection of statistics and relics relating to the history of Kansas State University. President, M. W. Sterling; Secretary, V. L. Kelloge.
Kent Club—Meets in North College every Friday afternoon at 1:30. Admits law students only.
University Glee Club—Meets in Music Hall every Saturday at 11:30 a.m. Prof. Penny, director; John A. Rush, business manager.
Y. M. C. A.—Meets in Music Hall every Sunday at 4 p. m. President. S. J. Hunter.
Oratorical Association of the Students of Kansas State University — President, Albert Fullerton; Secretary, J. W. Park.
University Athletic Association—President, Prof. Marvin; Secretary, W. H. Pratt; Treasurer, R. K. Moody, Includes Tennis Association, Base Ball association and Foot Ball association.
Lecture Bureau—President, Professor Templin.
UNIVERSITY JOURNALS.
The University Review—Editor-in-Chief, Albert Fullerton. Published monthly by The Kansas University Publishing Co.
The University Weekly Courier—Editor in-Chief, Geo. I. Adams. Published every Friday morning by The Courie Company.
The University Quarterly—For the publication of the results of original investigation, V. L. Kelloge, Managing Editor.
Seminary Notes—Published monthly by the Seminary of Historical and Political Science. Prof. F. W. Blackmar editor.
With such rapid raidroad transi-
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Bullene, Moore, Emery & Co.,
Kansas City
COLLEGE SPIRIT.
What is college spirit? No one doubts but that there is such a spirit. It flashes out instantaneously from the monotony of every day existence. In its presence, every college enterprise has a flattering prospect. Under its influence men become alert and active and ready to assume responsibilities. Under a good head of college spirit, the football player runs faster, the baseball man bats harder and the track athlete lowers his record. Nothing gives such an impetus to every college sport as true college spirit. It is the one thing needful to spur up the laggard and enthuse the ambitious. It gives vim and tart and acid to every event. It is the pepper ef activity that must be mixed with the salt of stability.
Now college spirit is the direct result of certain influences. In a college where these influences are normal, a healthy spirit prevails. In such a college a lusty shout will awaken all the dormant enthusiasm. Each student is personally interested in the numerous enterprises of his college. Wherever one finds an exuberance of college spirit, good football, good baseball, good athletics of all kinds, there one finds good students and good professors. College spirit is the outgrowth of prosperous circumstances and conditions.
THE COURIER objects to the report that the University is irreligious and the spirit of Christianity dying out. We are glad to know the stand taken by the COURIER and to find that this statement, so generally circulated, is false. It seems to have been the general impression that the most appropriate motto for K. S. U. was Dante's inscription over the entrance to hades; but a few clear articles like the COURIER's will do away with this and give the people a true idea of its spiritual condition.—College Life.
ONE of the last things learned, in a college course is how to study. The main object of study is the strengthening of the mental powers. Simply reading a lesson over while the mind is flitting about from one object to another is not study, but it is detrimental to the mind. Better stop short until the mental forces can be collected than to go on wasting strength in this way. Profound thinking does not necessarily require any extraordinary genius, but only a close and continued concentration and application of the powers possessed.
THE PRISON TRUSTY, one of our latest exchanges is a worthy representative of one of our largest state institutions. Its motto, "The 'pen' is mightier than the sword" is well substantiated by the statement of its "enrollment" which is 890, and the last consecutive number which is 6,345.
Some time ago there lived in a western city a young man by the name of Jack Dobson. He was a very bright young fellow and was especially apt in anything that pertained to machinery. To his natural ability was added an acquired skill so that he came to be almost a constructive genius. Whenever he saw a new specimen of machinery he always examined it very carefully, learning thereby its construction and mode of operation. Upon becoming conversant with the different parts he would make a similar machine of his own in miniature and add such improvements as his fertile genius could suggest.
Having strolled into a drug store one day he saw a curious kind of mahogany box sitting upon the show case. He advanced and was taking a critical exterior view of the object when the druggist came up, and slapping him gently on the shoulder, said, "Jack, there's something that will interest you. That's a music box, and it's one of the finest pieces of workmanship ever made. I'll just wind 'er up and let you see how she works"
A Strange Sad Story.
"I don't think it would do any good," said jack. "I never drew anything in my life. Nothing like trying though. I guess you can give me a ticket" And he threw a dollar on the counter.
"Bought it when I was East purchasing my fall goods" replied the druggist. "I'm going to rattle it off at a dollar a ticket. I had seventy five tickets, but I've sold about two thirds of 'em already. Wouldn't you like to take a chance?"
A few twists of a little lever, the musical cylinder was set in motion and Jack listened to some of the sweetest music he had ever heard. "Where did you get it?" he asked, after observing it closely for a few moments.
Two weeks later the raffle came off and strange to relate Jack held the fortunate ticket. Now his one great wish could be gratified. Carrying the music box home he immediately set about taking it to pieces. He noted carefully every point in the mechanism. Then he put it together again.
"I'll make one of my own," he said to himself, "only it will be very small."
For weeks afterward he labored on his miniature music box. Nor were his labors in vain, for the outcome of his genius was a mechanical wonder. It was only three-fourths of an inch long by a half inch in depth, and played thirteen tunes in five different languages. Jack was proud of his achievement, and did not fail to exhibit the wonder whenever opportunity offered. It became a favorite trick of his to put the instrument in his mouth unknown to those about him and then to enjoy the looks of surprise that were depicted on the different countenances upon hearing the mysterious sounds. One day when per forming his favorite trick he was thrown into a paroxysm of laughter by the grotesque antics of one of those who heard the unseen instrument. In his enjoyment of the situation he unfortunately swallowed the music box. His merriment was soon changed to fear and mortification. He tried in vain to eliminate the object of his pride from his stomach. He used ipecac, all sorts of emetics and hyperdermic injections, but it was of no avail. The pride of his constructive genius was destined to be the death of his soul. It may be remarked that the instrument had just been wound up before it began its peristaltic motion down the alimentary canal; so that it was in good trim to give a selection at any moment.
Ever after this fatal accident Jack Dobson was ill at ease. His diet had to be regulated and he was practically ostracized from society. He could never allow himself to become excited nor could any pressure be brought to bear upon that unfortunate region which acted as a receptacle to the music box. The least jar would set the pesky instrument in motion and cause Jack to die several cruel deaths.
One uight Jack took a young lady to church. They sat next to one of the old deaeons. During the whole sermon Jack was very cautious in all his movements and managed to sit through the preaching without any serious breaks. At the end of the sermon the old deacon next to him was asked to offer prayer. He did so, and growing fervent in his denunciation of all worldly vices he brought his hand down in close proximity to Jack. The latter gave a gentle lurch, but it was, alas, violent enough to set the music box to vibrating. Soon through the room was borne the muffled tones of "Ta-ra-boom day," with variations. Jack clasped his stomach convulsively and coughed like he had the consumption. But he couldn't quiet those subterian murmurings. Like murder, they would out. Noticing that people in all parts of the house had begun to look over in his direction and scowl, he stood the torture as long as possible; then, not being able to endure the "strain" any longer, he grabbed his hat and fleed tumultuously from the scene, leaving the young lady to find her way as best she could.
This was only one of the embarrassing situations into which Jack was forced. He went to a dinner party one day. He was one of the most convivial of the guests and had managed to bathe the little singer in his food basket with copious draughts of invigorating liquid, when, at a most inopportune moment and when everybody seemed jolliest the slow and solemn strains of the doxology greeted the ears of the astonished guests. The sound was most melancholy and lugubrious. Jack laughed convulsively, and clapped his hands and drank like a gourmand. But no use. The little concert inside of him quietly kept up its gentle vibrations and finally forced its possessor to
make an awkward excuse and to ignominiously retire 'mongst the laughing and hurrahing of his companious.
Jack Dobson finally died of mortification and chagrin. At the funeral, when the preacher was expiating upon the gentleness of Jack's life and the many christian acts he had performed, that everlasting little monitor struck up "We Won't Go Home Till Morning," and concluded with "Down Went McGinty." On the way to the cemetery, the mourners were entertained by a selection from Beethoven with French variations.
When the coffin was lowered into the dark grave and the sexton with his shovel had begun the biblical "dust to dust," there struggled up through the enveloping clay the faint tones of "Where Is My Wandering Boy To Night?" The selection was a medley and finally eluded with "See That My Grave's Kept Green."
Wherever Jack may have gone when he died, it is safe to say that his soul was musical.—Harold Barnes, in the Denver-Evening Post.
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