314 Kansas University Weekly. force of will he seemed to remain conscious. His voice grew husky, "tell them, tell them how it was. I—I miscalculated, I missed the train, I wanted—to redeem my future. Tell them I—wasn't—drunk." R. G. McKINNIE. A Tale of Eutopia. (With apologies to Sir Thopas.) Here beginneth a word to the sely publik. Be it knowe to yow that ther flourisheth in this toun a certaine clube cycleped Eutopia amonges hemselven, but bet knowe to the murye tounmen as the Spooner clube, in token for hir stronge affecciou ech for the other. After the hap hereafter set doun, a swayn fro this clube sent a lettre to the chief of this paper. Here foloweth the lettre in the vulgar English: "EDITOR—Will you kindly intercept any local that may come in this week or in the future, referring to a certain club on Ten as the Spooner club. If you will do this I will be more than obliged to you. I will explain later. Respectfully. Respectfully, Here endeth this word and here beginneth the Tale. Listeth, lordes in good entent, And I wol telle verrayment Of spoones and spooning fame ; Al of a clube was fair and gent In harmless guile and blandishment, Eutopia was his name. Y-formed it was in ner contree, In Lawrence far i-from the see— A most ungodly plas ; Men and maydes wer ther ful free, And fond in ech other's companye, As it wer lady grace. In that clube was a doghty swayn, Whyt was his face as payndemayn, His lippes rede as rose; Methinkes he wer a lite vaine, But I yow telle in good certayn, He hadde a semely nose. Ther was also a prettie mayde, Amonge the fair as I yow seyde, As swete as bremble-flour; And of a night in moony glede. They walked forth and forth indede Til early morning hour. Som churles herde of this queer pranke, And with hir handes they slapped hir shanke, As churles are wont to do; And to hir brestes hir hedes i-sank, Bethenking of som devilish pranke To mak this couple rew. Y-laiden was the plan anoon, Whan oon churl mentioned spoone, And glad am I it rimes with moon,— My wordes wer al i-fleyd ; No sooner was it seyd than doon, And to that clube hous they wer goon, It was a woeful dede. Upon the walk in shamful glee, A bigge spoone i-fastened they, And danced in hir jolitee, Al on the softe gras ; Another put they ther, pardee, Until in al and al wer three, O moody churles that they be For revel and solas. And on the morwe bright and fair, Doun to the Weekly wended ther The swayn before i-noticed here, And this is what he seyde: "Speke not of spoones, I prayeth thee, "The subject rankleth into me, "And hevenlich mede rewardeth thee, "Hit is no drede." HILLIARD JOHNSON. Locals. The Juniors occupied boxes at the play Wednesday night. The young ladies' fraternities are arranging a party for next Monday night. The Senior annuals seem to be in great demand and have had a brisk sale. E. C. Hickey is in town and will do summer work on the hill. Geo. E. Potter has returned to his studies after a protracted visit at home. E. T. Gillispie of Chicago was on the hill Thursday renewing old acquaintances.