in.

And since the rule's considered poor
That doesn't work both ways, I'm sure
As I can be,
That ages hence, if earth endures,
Some distant relative of yours
Will look like me.

HENRY RUTGERS CONGER.
_Williams Literary Monthly_.

~Hymns Ancient And Modern.~

ANCIENT.

Complexion like the winter snow,
Just tinted by the sunset glow,
Throat white as alabaster,
Teeth of pearl, and hair of gold,
And figure--sure in Venus's mould
Th' immortal gods have east her.

And I am proud her slave to be,
And deem it high felicity
To die, if she should will it so.
Ye fates! to-night propitious be,
For I approach divinity:
My life depends on "Yes" or "No."

MODERN.

Stunning girl,
Out of sight.
Guess I'll pop
Tuesday night.
Bully shape,
Pretty eyes;
Papa's rich,
Quite a prize.

Sure to have me,
Can't say no;
Lots of rocks--
It's a go.

R. L. RAYMOND.
_Harvard Lampoon_.

~Nightmare Of A Freshman Sign Swiper.~

He turned and tossed upon his bed,
Repose he could not find,
For all night long such things as these
Kept coursing through his mind.

"Keep off the Grass," and "Beer on Draught,"
"H-O," and "Pyle's Pearline;"
"Look out for paint," and "Use Pear's Soap,"
Were signs which he had seen.

And in the midst of all of these
A demon seemed to dance,
Who asked him with a fiendish grin,
"I say, 'Do you wear pants?'"

W.D. FLAGG.
_Harvard Lampoon_.

~What the Wild Waves Said.~

Do you hear the ocean moaning,
Ever moaning sad and low?
'Tis because that fat old bather
Stepped upon its undertow.

_University Herald_.

~A Decision.~

As a maid so nice,
With step precise,
Tripped o'er the ice,
She slipped; her care in vain.
And at the fall,
With usual gall,
The schoolboys call,
"Third down; two feet to gain."

ARTHUR LLEWELLYN ENO.
_Brunonian_.

~The Thorn that Guards.~

Far in the corner on the stairs,
We were sitting together, she and I;
The murmuring music was soft and low,
Like zephyrs that float 'neath a summer sky.

She held in her fingers a deep red rose,
And was plucking the petals, one by one;
Her eyes were filled with the dreamy light
That softens the west when the day is done.

"Ah, Mildred, you are a bud yourself;
Its blushing sweetness is wholly thine;
Cannot you let me press the flower,
And keep it forever, and call it mine?"

The fair lips trembled, the dimples smiled,
Her eyes told