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that he had only flirted with her, and he was engaged to be married to That Other Girl. But when it finally came to her with its inevitable shame and humiliation, poor little Miss Smith was sure that her heart was broken. It made her really quite ill, and as it all happened during the very last weeks of school term, she went home early and buried herself and her grief in the unbroken quite of Smithville. She was popularly supposed to have worked too hard and won a great deal of sympathy on account of this general impression. But she languished all summer long, taking small comfort from Charlie's devotion, and even failing to evince any especial delight when he so far forgot his pride and the independent ideals of the "counter-jumper" as to part his hair in the middle.
There are three stages in recovery from the effects of a love affair which ends as did Miss Smith's—real grief, which does not last long, intense humiliation, which is hardest of all, and the desire for revenge. When the vacation was over and it was time to return to college, Miss Smith had passed bravely through the first two of these stages and was in the third. She came back to the University a sadder and a wiser girl. Miss Smith was a Sophomore.
It is not my intention to follow her through the four years of her college career, but to relieve your suspense I will assure you that Miss Smith's heart was not broken by Burrough's faithlessness. The fact is, I heard the other day, that while she has lost much of that innocent naivete which charmed the older fellows when she was a Freshmen, she has gained in its place that cool indifference and calm composure which are the natural characteristics of Seniors, and which are so dangerously fascinating to susceptible and ingenuous under-graduates. It was one of the latter class, Phil Marston, with whom she had such a serious case during the latter part of her Junior year, and who was so terribly cut up when she threw him over for Brooks, the irresistible full back of the Varsity eleven, with the beautiful chrysanthemum hair.
Miss Smith was a credulous Freshmen no longer. She had added besides four years to her age about twice that number to her worldly wisdom and experience. She is even tempted in her most wildly daring moments to suspect that the college men are not really the most wicked in the world after all, and she has long since passed that stage when her heart could be made to flutter at the sight of a blasé Sophomore of nineteen years. All of which goes to prove beyond the shadow of a doubt that Miss Smith is a Senior.
FLORENCE JOHNSTONE.
Dutch Lullaby.
Wynken, Blyken and Nod one night Sailed off in a wooden shoe— Sailed on a river of chrystal light Into a sea of dew. "Where are you going and what do you wish?" The old man asked the three. "We have come to fish for the herring fish That live in the beautiful sea; Nets of silver and gold have we, Said Wynken, Blynken and Nod.
The old moon laughed and sang a song,
As they rocked in the wooden shoe.
And the wind that sped them all night long
Ruffled the waves of dew.
The little stars were the herring fish
That lived in that beautiful sea.
Now cast your net wherever you wish—
Never afear are we,
So cried the stars to the fisherman three
Wynken,
Blynken
and Nod.
All night long their nets they threw For the fish in the twinkling foam- Then down from the skies came the wooden Bringing the fishermen home. [shoe 'Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed As if it could not be,