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Kansas University Weekly.
GREAT DISSATISFACTION has been expressed over the conduct of one of the judges in the Spring Oratorical Contest last Friday night. This man gave the winning orator, who in the minds of the audience as well as of the two other judges, was pre-eminently the best speaker of the evening, last place. That was, of course, his privilege, and no exceptions can be taken to it of itself. But observers state that this particular judge, when the successful orator, who came last on the program, began to speak, folded up his papers and paid no further attention. Inasmuch as he was supposed to judge on delivery this was in itself grossly unjust; but in addition to this his whole air was that of a man who had his mind entirely made up and did not intend to be turned from it. These
circumstances, coupled with the low grade he gave the successful contestant and the high grade he gave an inferior one, cast grave suspicion upon the righteousness of his motives. A discrepancy between judges is to be expected, but not one of this magnitude on the part of one man against two, especially when the proper decision was so evident. It is not known what influenced the judge to so act toward this particular contestant, but such conduct on the part of a judge has a tendency to keep good men from entering these contests, and this lowers the standard of excellence. In the future let us have judges, as the other two were on this occasion, who will not let their prejudices or personal spite influence their decision. P.
Lilqraqy.
The Joly Tyme of May.
"And as for me, thoog that I can but lyte,
On bokes for to rede I me delyte,
And to hem yeve I feyth and ful credence.
And in myn herte have hem in reverence
So hertely, that ther is game noon
That fro my bokes maketh me to goon,
But it be seldom, on the holy day;
Save, certeynly, whan that the month of May
Is comen, and that I hear the foules singe,
And that the floures ginnen for to springe,
Farwel my book and my devocioun!
"Now have I swich a condicioun,
That of all the floures in the mede,
Than love I most these floures whyte and rede,
Swiche as men callen daysies in our town.
So hem have I so greet affeceoun,
As I seyde lest, whan comen is the May,
That in my bed ther daweth me no day
That I nam up, and walking in the mede
To seen this floure agein the sonne sprede,
When hit upryseth erly by the morwe;
That blisful sighte softneth al my sorwe,
So glad am I whan that I have presence
Of hit, to doon al maner reverence,
As she, that is of alle floures flour,
Fulfilled of al vertu and honour,
And ever y-lyke fair, and fresh of hewe;
And I love hit, and ever y-lyke newe,
And ever shal, til that myn herte dye;
Al swere I not, of this I wal not lye,
Ther loved no wight hotter in his lyve."
—Chaucer in The Legend of Good Women.
Seraphima and the Cabbage.
Seraphima was wandering listlessly about the yard, waiting for Dickon to come home from schooi. She had run through her whole category of amusements, and had even gone so far as to build a forbidden fire in the back yard, with which to roast a wriggling, squirming worm that she had found at the root of her Aunt's favorite rose bush. But her Aunt had swooped down upon her in righteous indignation, and Seraphima was left alone with only her thoughts for company.
"I wisht Dickon'd come," she sighed. "I jes can't do nothin' th'out Dickon. Oh-h-h." She shook her tangled hair over her eyes, and clasped her hands upon her breast. Seraphima was in trouble—in fact she was never out of trouble excepting when she sat at her Aunt's knees on Sundays, and recited demurely the shorter catechism.
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