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The University Courier.
Al. Lamb, a Lawrence young man, now languishes in the city jail for the theft of an overcoat from University halls. The overcoat is the property of Gladhart, who, as soon as he noted its disappearance, commenced a still hunt, which finally resulted in the apprehension of the thief. At first, young Lamb stoutly denied any knowledge of the overcoat, but finally broke down and confessed. He was fined $25 in police court, and, being unable to pay the fine, was sent to jail. There was also in his possession a fine umbrella and a hat, which are now at the jail awaiting identification. Last year young Lamb was in the habit of spending a good deal of his time at the University reading in the library. Perhaps he might be able to throw some light on the mysterious disappearance of several articles last year.
Faculty Concert.
Standing room was at a premium at the concert given by the faculty of the School of Music last Thursday evening, Music Hall being filled to the doors while a large number were unable to get in at all. The faculty was assisted by Rev. G. D. Rogers, tenor, and Mame Berry, soprano, and every number of the splendid program received an encore.
The following program was rendered:
Mozart-Overture to the "Magic Flute," trio for piano, violin and organ. Mr. Preyer,Mr. Fornell. M.D.
Mr. Preyer, Mr. Farrell, Mr. Penny.
De Beriot—Seventh Concerto for violin,
De Beriot—Seventh Concerto 10r violin,
Mr. Farrell.
Mrs. Browning—"A Woman's Question," reading,
Mrs. May Pierce Clark.
Millard—"When the Flowing Tide Comes In," song,
Mr. Rodgers.
Pease—"Mignon Polonaise," for piano,
Pease—"Mignon Polonaise," for piano. Mr. Preyer. Elizabeth S. Phelps—"The Day of Judgment," read-
Mrs. May Pierce Clark.
Moszkowski—Spanish Dances, for violin and piano,
Mr. Farrell and Mr. Preyer.
Shelly—"Heart's Sorrow,
Miss Berry. Verdi—Transcription from "La Traviata," trio for piano, violin and organ; Mr. Preyer,Mr. Farrell, Mr. Penny.
LITERARY.
A Mistake.
"Jist listen here, Julie," said old Uncle Cy to his wife. "If this aint darned hard luck, I don't want a cent," and the old man proceeded to read a letter which he had just received.
"I am terribly sorry Father, but I wont be able to come home this Christmas, nor any time during the holidays. I have a large amount of work on my hands that will have to be finished before the beginning of next term, and my only time to do it will be during vacation. You know this is my last year, and I want to get everything in shape before I finish." "Now it seems to me that Jo might have managed it some way, so that he could be here for a little while anyway," and the old man threw the letter over to his wife, and started down town to his business.
When he came back in the evening, his face showed that he was greatly puzzled over something. His wife noticed it, and inquired:
"What's the matter Cyrus?
Then the old man burst out with: "I've been down town, and been a talking with Simon Badger, Al Smith, old man Blodgett, and a lot of them fellers as knows about such things, and they all say: 'Uncle Cy, Jo's a lying to you. He aint got no work to do, fer them college fellers don't work much. He's been playing foot-ball and such like, and is laying up for repairs now, and dasn't come home and tell you that he has got purty near killed. All them foot-ball men get about killed every time they play, and of course they never do any work. Why they spend over twelve hours a day training fer a game, more'n a race hoss does.' Now if these fellers are right and this boy has been a lying to me, I'm going to lick him till he can't stand, even if he is as big as I am. I tell you what I'm going to do, old woman. If Jo can't come here, I can go there, and I am going to do it too. I'm going to slip in on him, and see if he has been lying to me, and if he has, I'm never going to give him one cent more money this whole year, and he can