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Kansas University Weekly.
"Hush!" I said clapping my hand to the top of my head.
"I was going to say 'blasé'," said Polly twinkling.
“Oh!" I said, recovering my composure, "go on."
"And," Polly continued, 'there are other fraternities."
“Perhaps—.” said I.
"Well?" said Polly.
"I think I begin to see," said I. "Sometimes there are other men."
"There are," said Polly.
"Who is going to take you to the Indoor Meet?" I asked. I rather demanded it in fact.
"Do you know that it is very late, Mr. Packard?" suggested Polly.
"I am going presently," I said. "Is he a Delt?"
Miss Polly was picking up her music and did not answer.
"It is Harvey Rowell," I observed to the lamp.
"Well?" said Polly.
"Do you intend to wear his Delt pin?" I asked frowning.
"How can I tell—now?" said Polly.
"Will you wear my pin?" I demanded.
"Well really,Mr. Packard," said Polly dusting her hands daintily, "Do you think it would be good policy—under the circumstances?"
I took off my pin and fastened it on her dress. "You can wear it or not as you please," said I, "but—won't you?"
Then I went out to get on my overcoat. Polly came to the door to watch me. "Mr. Packard," she said presently, "when Beatrice did your pin who was the nicest Delt?" I don't say anything. I couldn't-for reasons usually a very truthful individual and the circumstances I thought that silence t. Polly watched me a moment.
"Did she ever have it,Mr. Packard?" she asked.
She was facing me with the sternness of a judge but her mouth twitched and one dimple peeped out a moment while I looked at her.
I took up my hat.
"Did she?" Polly insisted.
---
"No," I said grumpily,—"good-night."
The House Across the Way.
Squawk, squawk, squawk! then a violent fluttering of wings. These were the sounds that floated through my partially open window about midnight not long since, as I sat vainly endeavoring to prepare a satisfactory exercise which was due in the Advanced English Composition Class the following morning at eight o'clock. Of course my curoosity was aroused. Hastily turning down the light, I stepped quickly to the window, pulled the curtain aside, and looked out. The heavy clouds that, earlier in the evening had appeared to be a single dome of blackness, had broken, and the segments were floating in a sea of silvery moonlight. The moon just at that instant, broke from behind one of these dark, floating islands, and lighted up an interesting scene. In the back yard to a small house about forty yards distant, a tall ungainly person was running about, making sudden turns, now this way, now that; and every now and then, frantically grasping at something on the ground. Near him stood another figure giving vent to his feelings in broken exclamations against his awkward companion. "Yo' good fur nuffin, butt'tr-finger'd black rascal! Rastus! ef yo' 'lows dat fowl to 'scape, I'll tak' de hide clar offen yo': dat I will; sho' as yuse bo'n! O Lawd!" this despairingly as Rastus's foot caught in his clothing and he fell sprawling to the ground, "ef I could only lef' dis bag!" He had not heard the smothered squawk that followed the fall of Rastus; but he realized, when Rastus arose with something in his hand, that his greatest anxiety was at an end. As the pair started toward the door of the house a moment later, Rastus said, "I never t'ot dad bird cud get tro' my pocket. He mus' be pow'rful small."
"Hush yo' face an' git inter de house," rejoined his companion "or de cops ul hear dis kerumpus an' run us bof in."