184 Kansas University Weekly. "I went down and expostulated with that fellow for bringing us so much beer. I told him a nickel's worth was all we wanted. He said something about going a mile for it, and before I knew it he knocked me headlong into the stairway. You see the result." While we were washing the blood from his face a strong odor as of burning rubbish became apparent and Grubb dashed to his chafing-dish and turned out the lamp. "I am afraid this is spoiled," said he, sadly, "but we still have the bread and can make some toast." "Yes, said Booth, "toast is more Bohemian than Welsh rarebit any how. CYLEGICEL. A Bit of School Girl's Romance. In my boarding-school days, I had a special fondness for one of my teachers—I shall call her Miss Brown. My love for her was strangely intense; indeed, it was like the adoration of a lover. If only I could look at her, I was happy, while a smile from her made me radiant with pleasure. The warm pressure of her hand or a few words of pleasantry or advice from her made my joy complete; my cup of happiness for that day at least was full. One morning, on my way to a recitation, I passed Miss Brown in the hall, but instead of the usual cordial greeting, I received a cold recognition and a look which seemed to me even reprovingly stern. I was chilled to numbness, my head swam with a sickening feeling of dizziness, and all joy departed from me. My recitation was a complete failure, for I was unable even to find the place in my Virgil, and no wonder—it was upside down. I walked out of the class room as usual with my dearest friend, Evylyn, who was bubbling over with merriment about some scheme for the afternoon, our semiweekly half holiday. At another time, I should have joined in the fun with most hearty enthusiasm, but this morning, my cold indifference was the cause of bitter words on both sides and a quarrel so serious that we passed two whole days without speaking. At luncheon, I disgraced myself by spilling gravy on the tablecloth and dropping my knife on the floor. When spoken to, I replied in monosyllables. When Susan Green stepped on my dress and said "Beg pardon," I answered "Certainly." In the afternoon, I greeted my special Freshman protege with "Good morning," and when she confided in me a dismal tale of woe, I responded with sympathetic absent-mindedness "That's good!" When at last I was free and could go to my room, I locked the door, and threw myself upon the bed in abject misery—what had I done? I thought over all the occasions on which my love for "a good time" had carried me beyond the limits of school propriety; but nothing I could remember was sufficient explanation for the terrible calamity which had befallen me. The long afternoon was fast drawing to a close while the deepening twilight only intensified my gloom. Suddenly a knock at the door aroused me. I had been wishing I might receive a summons to go home, and with a thrill of satisfaction, I imagined a telegram awaiting me. On opening the door, however, whom should I see but Miss Brown. "Why, my dear," said she, 'how wretched you look! Have you a toothache too? I came to see if you would let me have some of your mother's medicine you were telling me about. I have suffered tortures ever since breakfast." M. B. S. Woman's Influence. At a little country station two women entered the train and, looking critically at the passengers, sat down in the vacant seat in front of me. One of them, whom for the sake of convenience we will call Mrs. Jones, was a little, old-fashioned woman whose silvery hair hung in ringlets down her back reminding me of a fashion of long ago. She wore a plain black silk dress and had a pair of heavy gold ear rings, a breast pin, and a necklace to match. Her feet which barely touched the floor she kept tapping restlessly as she talked to the young lady who accompanied her.