The Courier-Review.
105
LOGALS.
Jay is married.
McCall, '94, of Topeka, is in town.
Mansen doesn't like "anatomy class cocktails."
Catagory Club is reveling in succotash and hominy.
Miss Genevieve Howland will visit a fortnight in Kalamazoo, Mich.
Jim Kelsey will enter his prairie dog in the law course next term.
Prof. Williston gave a reception to his Hygiene and anatomy classes.
Clark's collection of medals comprises ancient, modern and mediaeval.
The dark appearance on Fweddie Buchan's lip is not smut: it is an alleged mustache.
Agnew, Turner and Hudson were initiated into the Phi Delta Theta fraternity Tuesday night.
The Sigma Nus are talking of a golf party. Troxel will initiate them into the mysteries of the game.
When Beebe came in the other night with a friend, his room-mate, Martindale, had to sleep on the floor.
Spellman, Harris and Bates bought song books at the opera house the other night. They would welcome a shell game.
It has developed that the two gentlemen in full dress at the Chancellor's reception were not "men in livery,"but students.
Several girls threatened to kiss the football team at the Chancellor's reception. Pope and Maxwell were everywhere. John Steele tried to borrow a sweater.
Thrice daily has the writer tried to read the Kansas City Times, but on each occasion he has found it surrounded by a surging crowd of girls, like a bargain counter. They were devouring the write-up of Lawrence society favorites.
Someone has papered Bowker's room with Schlitz labels. Bowker cannot sleep there and will change to some other apartment. Suspicion rests on Gomer Thomas.
Red sweaters will be worn this fall instead of shirts. Chappie Stone entertained everybody at the football banquet at Mr. Clark's by making his celebrated "funny noises."
The Law School freaks, Lamb, Gladfelter, Stevens and Blake are talking of floating down the river on a house-boat. Doc. Stevens will give exhibitions of his prowess at phrenology, Blake will make stump speeches on "The V Question," while Lamb and Gladfelter will give exhibitions of hypnotism, pull teeth, sell soap and answer any questions that might be asked.
Gear and Kelsey received handsome medals from the grateful citizens of Winfield for winning them the state pennant. Spring will find Gear in the box and the "only Jimmy" behind the bat.
One of the most successful farce-comedies of the season is "A Railroad Ticket," which comes to the Opera House Dec. 17. Undoubtedly the chief reason for its pronounced success is that it if filled with fun. From start to finish the food for laughter is dealt out with lavish hand. What is more, the unflagging humor is new and springs spontaneously from every-day hapenings and experiences. In constructing "A Railroad Ticket," the author left the beaten path of farce-comedy far to one side. He entirely eschews the ancient gags and devices. No siphon bottles nor crashing crockery enter into his theme of diversion. The superabundance of humor, crowding every scene, is good, original and irresistible. In the line of legitimate comedy, the laughable situations are worked up. Of the best and fetching kind is the music. A mechanical adjunct is an electric car, fully equipped, well filled with passengers and in rapid motion, and a rain-making machine in operation. The