earnedly as we are capable of writing, the proprietors of this paper
would soon have to raise its price from two cents to five cents per
copy.

We say this in no spirit of egotism; it is simply our good fortune that
we happen to possess extraordinary advantages. We have the best
assortment of cyclopaedias in seven states, and the Public Library is
only two blocks off. It is no wonder, therefore, that our erudition
and our research are of the highest order.

Still it is not practicable that we, being now on earth, should devote
much time to delving into, and wallowing among, the authors of past
centuries. Ignatius Donnelly has been trying for the last three years
to inveigle us into a discussion as to the authorship of Shakespeare's
plays. We have declined to participate in any public brawl with the
Minnesota gentleman, for the simple reason that no good could accrue
therefrom to anybody. If there were an international copyright law,
there would be some use in trying to find out who wrote these plays, in
order that the author might claim royalties on his works; or, if not
the author, his heirs or assigns forever.

Mr. Whiting will understand that we cannot take much interest in an
anonymous hymn of the seventeenth century. It is enough for us to know
that the hymn in question could not have been written by a Chicago man,
for the very good reason that Chicago did not exist in the seventeenth
century; that is to say, it existed merely as the haunt of the musquash
and the mud-turtle, and not as the living, breathing metropolis of
to-day. We have our hands full examining into, and criticising, the
live topics of current times: if we were to spend our days and nights
in hunting up the estray poets and authors of the seventeenth century,
how long would it be before the sceptre of trade and culture would slip
irrecoverably from Chicago's grasp?

Chicago has very little respect for the seventeenth century, because
there is nothing in it. The seventeenth century has done nothing for
Chicago: she does not even know that this is the greatest hog-market in
the world, and she has never had any commercial dealings with us in any
line. If Chicago does n't cut a wider swath in history than the
seventeenth century has, we shall be very much ashamed of her.

"DIE WALKUeRE" UND DER BOOMERANGELUNGEN

There is a strange fascination about Herr Wagner's musical drama of
"Die Walkuere." A great many people have supposed th