174 SWAPS. SWAPS. Christmas vacation came at last and with it the hope of rest for the weary exchange editor. For a long time the recollections of other days, and of "home sweet home," had been uppermost in his mind making his countenance radiant with the anticipation of coming enjoyment. His exuberance of spirit knew no bounds when the day for his departure came. He was all equipped and ready to start when the business manager gave him a call, presumably to wish him a "Merry Christmas." But, alas! his first words were, "You will please send your matter in by the first of next week as we want to come out on the first Monday of the new year." "Arch Fiend!" He kuew not what desolation he had wrought. With these words came other associations, and the exchanger's sweet dreams of rest and nothing to do were banished. Instead of his look of self satisfaction came a dark determination which took possession of him exclusively. He turned to a dusty pile of exchanges, and from it drew out a few old sinners that had called him hard names and said naughty things about him. He was determined to bring direful vengeance upon them and make others sad to bear him company. Having safely tucked these in one corner of his valise he started for the depot. When about half way he was accosted by a "Prep." with "When will the Courier be out?" You ——will probably find your Courier in the office this afternoon, he said after choking his rage. Just as he was boarding the train a Freshman sang out, "Say Ex., when will the Courier be out?" But the rumble of the car wheels prevented the reply of the much abused and warm blooded Ex. from falling on the undesecrated ear of the guileless freshie. Once at home, away from his sanctum, he determined to do his worst upon those offenders who had dared beard the lion, before good dinners and genial companionship should unnerve him. One after another was taken up, examined and disposed of by rounded periods of sarcasm. But while he was thinking how he should attack the next, he fell into a reverie. Christmas, with its rejoicings, and New Year's Day, with its resolves for the future, passed rapidly before his mind. This was the time when everybody should rejoice and he alone had made himself proof against enjoyment. Then occurred to him the well known lines: "Ring out the old, Ring in the new; Ring out the false, Ring in the true. Under these thoughts his soul began to warm, and within he heard a noise like that made by a huge slave breaking his chains. It was a slave, but one now risen in revolt, and conscience stood before him, and with a voice made wheedling through much choking, said: "Are you not too severe? Should you not act a little more in keeping with the principle of the right and left cheek? Is a man, because he is an editor, exempt from all charity for his fellows?" Our editor was thoroughly convinced. He had not been troubled before for twenty years by his conscience and had forgotten that he possessed one. He immediately threw what he had written into the fire and watched it burn with the satisfaction of a martyr, and then made the following resolution: That in the new year he would say nothing bad about anybody. That he would say nice things about everybody, he could, conscientiously, for he found he had a conscience. That he would answer the question "When will the Courier be out" seventy-five times a day without losing his temper.