ON THE SIDE.
The Latest Class Fad.
The latest fad among eastern college students is the "photograph rush." There can be no more pleasing a pastime for upperclassmen than to break in unawares upon Freshies or Sophs getting their pictures "took." Cameras are smashed, plates shattered, and both photographer and students are roughly handled.
This is rare sport, charming in its novelty and effectual in crushing out all semblance of hateur among the lower classesmen. It has already discounted the flag rush and the hat rush. The cane rush, too, will soon be compelled to yield precedence The exhileration due to the anticipation of being "shot" in two ways is far too great to be overcome.
Now could not the Sophomore class defer that proposed "cane rush" and immortalize its name to the eternal bow-wows by instituting the first "photograph rush" ever beheld in a western university? If the Sophs don't do it-alas-who will?
ON THE SIDE
Four years ago in an after-dinner talk made at the annual banquet of the Historical Seminary, over which James H. Canfield presided, a speaker dwelt on the influence of nature upon the early years of childhood: of the woods, the green hills, the shaded streams, and of their impressions upon the memory, lasting through long years of struggle with the world. "These little things, so common-place at the time are the ones that become a part of our hearts and lives unconsciously," continued the speaker, Noble L' Prentiss. "We do not know their subtle power until some day suggested by the slightest event, the perfume of lilacs, a strain of forgotten music, they glide back as a flash-light, overcoming us with sweet memories. Again we see the vine-clad cottage, the hill beyond, the old path winding through the meadow, and with them the sad thoughts, always sad, of first hopes and dreams, perhaps of wasted years.
It refines the feeling, inspires and ennobles the soul. Nothing is more potential in the heart-culture than beautiful architectural surroundings during college life.
Akin to the influence of nature and stronger in the development of the growing mind is the contact with beautiful architecture.
At the banquet Mr. Henry Van Brunt, the scholar and artist, spoke in the same strain in behalf of the new library building. In his plea for the newly christened child of his art he expressd the hope that it would find a place in our hearts. Both the students and faculty can come to feel that it is not a mere thing of utility but a part of us. The beauty of outline and warmth of coloring will in time give it a place in our affections which a more imposing struture could not fill, a place beside that which Snow )(all long ago proved itself to hold.
Few of those who heard the address of the architect failed to be touched by the appeal and with them it is certain to give a deeper sympathy and greater loyalty for Kansas University. There are few institutions of learning in the country which are more favored in location, and the Spooner Library will stand in the group of white stone structures which crown the summit of Mount Oread, half-hidden in foliage, nearly two hundred feet above the city, a fitting and enduring monument to its honor and to the architect, Mr. Henry Van Brunt.
After the banquet a freshman whose last dollar had gone for a ticket was met by his room-mate, a "pharmic." wao had heard of progressive high-five.
"How was the banquet. Bill?" he inquired. "Fine," exclaimed the freshie', "we had a fine dinner; five courses in it."
"How many tables did they have?" asked the "pharmic."
"Five," replied Bill.
"Five tables? And did you have to move up a table for each course?" asked the unsophisticated "pharmic."
A diminitive Rock Chalk yell came from the alley as the senior passed, and two urchins, having crimson rags on their coats came into sight. The senior stopped short.
"What are you youngsters doing?" he asked with an air of severity.
We're playing K. U." was the response from the elder.