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Kansas University Weekly.
to invest the people's money in buildings to stand for years as idle, empty monuments of the contractor's thrift.
WILL WHITE, whom every University student admires and looks up to, seems to be trying to tone down his popularity a little. Last week he clothed himself in a gunny sack, sat down in an ash heap under a weeping willow tree and indulged in a brief reverie over the wicked things he used to do when he was serving his apprenticeship on the college papers in preparation for his later brilliant career. We have no doubt the boys did some pretty mean things in the old days (some of the Weekly's pesky, sneaking, would-be rivals do now, for that matter) and the Emporia college papers may have "riled" Will of late, but that is no excuse for his calling us names and saying we are just as bad as he was when he was "sowing the wind," for we probably couldn't be if we tried; we lack
the genius. But he surely wouldn't abolish the college paper! Without it, what would become of the college-bred journalst who is growing so strong in numbers and influence in this state? The game is worth the candle many times over, and our friend White is a living proof of the statement, which can only be overthrown by arguing himself out of existence. We occupy as legitimate a field as the regulation county weekly, and this paper seeks its support in a legitimate business manner and we think the sentiment of the institution favors no deviation from such a policy. Indeed, only this week the students of the Law School tabled a resolution which involved virtual blackmail of the Lawrence merchants. With a little encouragement from our big brother newspapers we can get along and do what is right by them. Of one thing we are sure—it takes about all the money we can scrape together to pay them our bills for printing.
LITERARY.
A Fairview Sensation.
"A very pretty little house, isn't it?" said Mrs. Perry to her companion Mrs. Barton, as she drove leisurely down the shady street. An affirmative nod answered her and she continued "Half the young men in town have, for these last six months been envying Mr. Falconer his pleasant home and charming wife."
"Mrs. Falconer has surely made all her husband's friends her own, and the young people all agreed that her home is the place to have the gayest times. Have you met her sister yet?—what is her name?"
"Ruth Linscott. No, I have only seen her at church. A rather pretty girl, I should say. How happy Mrs. Falconer must be to have her come for the summer. I remember how glad I was to see any of my old acquaintances even, the first year after I was married. One longs for some familiar faces among all the new friends however kindly they may be. There is
Mrs. Kennedy standing at her front door, I must stop and ask about her son." As Mrs. Perry spoke, she turned in from the road toward a rather dilapidated cottage and stopped her horse before it. A woman came quickly down the little walk as if pleased with the chance to talk with them--or as the event proved, to them.
"Yes," she said in answer to Mrs. Perry's question, after greetings had been exchanged, "Tom is getting better. He's up and around in the house today. The doctor says he can go back to work in two weeks. Doctor Thurber is just fine in fevers, aint he? That jelly you sent was the nicest kind. Can't I get your receipt for it? I says to Tom when you sent it, 'there's nothing like having good neighbors.' And, speaking of neighbors, the Falconers are living in pretty fine style seems to me, with their tennis 'courts,' as they call 'em, their hammocks, and piazza chairs all around