"I'm going to write books, too," announced Molly meekly, "but I feel that I'm not ready to begin yet " "You can't begin too young," interrupted Edith. "I know, but I'm coming back for a post grad. course in" Molly hesitated, she hardly knew why "in English and and a few other things. I've got no style " "What, are you really coming back?" they cried.

"And I tell you what," went on Tavia, "when Pop gets Squire Sander's place I this me you know" and she made another wonderful, sweeping all-around bow, "I will be 'city clerk. I will keep the books and Dorothy Hill-and-Dale, if ever your name gets on the books it shall be promptly eliminated, elucidated, expurgated there now! Don't you think I should be in the grad. class?

Poet, dramatist, and pamphleteer, was b. at Norwich, and studied at Camb., where he grad. A.B. He was also incorporated at Oxf. in 1588. After travelling in Spain and Italy, he returned to Camb. and took A.M. Settling in London he was one of the wild and brilliant crew who passed their lives in fitful alternations of literary production and dissipation, and were the creators of the English drama.

The article in the Bulgarian serial is called 'The Nistinares. The word is not Bulgarian; possibly it is Romaic. The scene is in certain villages in Turkey, on the Bulgarian frontier, and not far from the town of Bourgas, on the Euxine, in the department of Lozen Grad. Constantine and St. Helena.

"Fahrt wohl, ihr Strassen grad and krumm Ich zieh' nicht mehr in euch herum, Durchton euch nicht mehr mit Gesang, Mit Larm nicht mehr and Sporenklang." As the deep tones died away, the soft night was steeped in the sadness of that farewell song. It was Richter who brought the full force of it home to Stephen. "Do you recall the day you left your Harvard, and your Boston, my friend?" he asked.

It was near the dinner-hour, and the footman was demurring about admitting a sailor-man, who hardly knew what he said, when a little scream from Chloe, who happened to see me, soon disposed of my claim for an entrance. "Masser Mile! Masser Mile! I so grad dat feller, Neb, say you come home Oh! Masser Mile, now I know dat de rascal at Clawbonny get druv' off!"

"But, thank goodness, it's over, and I have my diploma in this suit case," murmured Dick grimly. "No more fearful grind, such as we've been going through for more than four years. No more tortured doubts as to whether we'll ever grad. and get our commissions in the Army. That is settled, now.

There, too, were the members of the classes remaining, but these latter were still in the cadet gray, and would be until the close of their own grad. days. Hurried good-byes were said. Warm handclasps sounded on all sides. Few words were said, but there were many wet eyes. Then some of the grads. raced for the station to board the next city-bound train. Greg remained behind with Dick.

And you too, my dear young missus; now, we all so grad it be you, for we did t'ink, a one time, dat would nebber come to pass."

I hope no offence has been taken on account of my telling the chief they are Jews." "Don't care any t'ing 'bout it," answered the literal Indian, rising from his kneeling position, and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Don't care wedder Jew, or wedder Indian." "For my own part, gladly would I have it to say that I am descended from Israel." "Why don't say him, if he make you grad?