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dey was notic' dat he mos' forget 'is wife Emma. De village Gossip hear it an' tole it her man an' de mens feel very mad for see de way Jean was ac'. Well Tam she pass by some more an' de harves' begin get ripe. Den wan day befor' we could know it, she an' Jean pass on de train to Montreal for get married. W'en de villagers hear dis an' Madam Gossip drink nudder cup of tea, all de man folks, ev'ry wan, was mad 'way true lak a grand Taureau w'en you shak' red shirt at 'im. Gendarm' Gadupee he's call an indignation meet at Bill Flury magazine an' we all say dat we mak' it hot for Jean w'en he get bac'. We wait 'bout 'huit jours' to see 'im an' 'is new femme, all de tam we fix it up wit de conductor to mak' telegraphy to us w'en he see Jean get on de train so dat we be at de depot for meet 'im.

"Dare was 'bout doux-hondert dare an' dey was haf tin-pan an' horn w'ech mak' most' as much nois' as de beeg steam boat on Reever Saint Lawrence. By Gorriation, Jean was 'sprise, you could see it by de red on 'is face. But 'is femme shees hole 'er head up so 'er nose mos' touch de top of de wagon. All de tam de small boy cry 'Jeanus, Jeanus' at de top of 'is voice. Well dat night we be march 'roun Jean Beaupré's maison, an' blow de horns lak de good people did 'roun' de village wit de beeg wall so dey fall down. We was shout an' holler 'til Jean come to de winder wit 'is shot-gun an' say bad word. Den h'ev'rybody take fright h'excep' Gendarm' Gadupee who tak' a leetle book from 'is close an' mak b'lieve read in French so dat h'evry wan hear dat it be against de laws for carry de weapon hide on de coat. So he tole Jean pass out 'is gun. Den de fright was leave us, an' we was blow some more 'til de sonne come h'up lak he want to hear, an' smile at us for good job. You bet Jean was mad w'en we ask 'im how he sleep. De nex' night we do de sam ting, so Jean pass on de city de day affer to get an Advocat' to come persecute us. Den we get fright agen for fears we brak de peace, so we go see Monsieur Macracket de council (the name of the gentleman in question was Michael Hacket) an' w'en hees put on 'is glass an' read long tam he tole us dat if we get de instrument musick dat Jean's Advocat can't say notting. Dat mak' us

feel sure agen an' we scourge de contree for de instruments musik. We find beaucoun brass bugle wat dey was hav' to call de sojers in de Patoir Rebellion w'ich mos' wipe out de Frenchman on Kebec. An' we get too from Bateese Bellware wan beeg drum, de fader drum, an' leetle drum wat we call de "Garcon." Also we hav' french horn w'ich got mos' as many turn in it as dem steam-pipe wat keep warm de Chateau La Belle on de win

ter tam.

"Me I was get a 'Tubad' from my brudder who live on Pawtuckeet in Les Etate Unis. Wan feller was hav' leetle ting call de piccolo wat squeak lak wan leetle pig on a gate. After h'ev'ryting be prepare we go agen to mak' 'Chivarari' 'roun' Jean Beaupré's maison. Dat wat we be call it in French. I tink you people call it 'Serenade', only in de 'Chivarari' dare ain't no Belle Madammoiselle to sit on de winder casement.

"Well we keep h'it up for five, six weeks, prob'ly tree, 'til Jean lose mos' all de nerves he haf, den he sen' 'is wife bac' to 'er mudder on de city. Dat be de story he tell, but I tink 'is wife she leave 'im for she be dat kind of woman.

De old man wit de

sickle hees cut good many days an' notting happen. De winter come but not til h'evrybody's barn she be near bust wit de harves' an' de cellar be full wit good 'potats'. Den de young fellar lak I who hav' no girl for go see begin get lonesome becus' dey hav' de 'Chivarari' no more, so Alec La Pete who play de grand organ for de Pries' was write some real musik for us an' I learn each wan de part. We elec' Gendarm' Gadupee to be ban'-master 'caus' hees play de slid' trombone an' can keep tam wit 'is han'. Den you see we be de favorite wit de girl jus' lak La Reina's sojors who parade by lake Saint Pierre on de sommer. H'evrybody ask us to play w'en dare was big tam on de village." Louis paused a moment, mechanically stropping the razor which he held, then, bending toward me and in a mysterious undertone, added:

"An By Gee Lovely, I nev' tole nobody, but I tink jus de sam' dat Annette she say 'Oui' w'en I ask 'er marry me, 'caus' I play so well on dat ole ban'."

K. F., 'oi.

KIPLING.

A strong man of the East came down
And wandered the wide world o'er,

Out of the mist of London town,
Out of the city grey and brown,

To Punjab and Lahore.

He strayed in the shade of the southern palm,

He skirted the sounding shore.

He wandered the wide world back again,

Over the rock-bound steep,

Breasting the gales of the storm-wrought main,

Running seas and a whipping rain,

With eyes that never sleep.

His heart, as broad as the rolling plain,

As deep as the seas are deep.

A strong man of the East came down,

And sang to you and me ;

He sang us a song of the beast that kills,

Of honor, of men's good and ills,

Of Life and its mystery.

Aye! his heart is the heart of the crimson hills,
And his song-the song of the sea.

A. P., '02.

THE CHARACTER OF A ROOSTER.

The red lights of the old coal wharf cast gleaming reflections on the dingy white side of the storehouse, until its shadowy walls seemed the battlements of a castle grim and stately. The lanterns of the big schooners moored near by moved slowly up and down, as the great ships swung bow to the tide and tugged at their anchors. The harsh sound of the creaking coal buckets at length was silenced, and the stillness was only broken by the little waves splashing on the shore.

Suddenly without warning, a sharp, shrill and almost human voice sounded in the darkness the opening notes of "Old Madrid." "Long years ago in old Madrid" it seemed to echo mockingly in my ears. Twice it sounded, distinct and unerring -before I awoke to the realization that this was a rooster's crow. Once more it came, "In Old Madrid-in Old Madrid," reverberating on the water. This surely was a sentimental rooster to choose such a tune and such a strain. I listened again but only heard far away by the grassy old fort, the bugle playing Taps.

It has been some time since I have heard "In Old Madrid," but its opening bars sound as clearly to me now as they did that night and many nights following that. And sometimes, lying awake, when all is still and dark, I wonder if my "Old Madrid Serenader" is alive and sentimental as ever.

O. A. D., '03.

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First of all, at the opening of the new year, THE TUFTONIAN wishes to extend its greeting to the college of which it is a part. Especially, a warm welcome to you, freshmen, who now for the first time are climbing the hill, to learn for yourselves that the college catalogue does not tell everything; that college life means something more than prescribed courses, examinations and class days. There is much in store for you in the four years just begun. Joy and sorrow, victory and defeat, all have a place in this little world of ours on college hill. The one injunction which your college magazine would lay upon you is this: Bear in mind at all times the fact that whatever at any time is for the interest of the college is equally as much for your own; act accordingly and your ultimate success in college cannot be doubted. By starting aright the seed is planted which will grow of itself and culminate in that perfect flower, a lasting love for one's college, the most precious inheritance of the college man from his alma mater.

Commencement, last June, marked the close of twenty-five years of the administration of the affairs of Tufts by President Capen, and we are glad to pause for a moment, at the beginning of the new year, to look back over that long period and to congratulate our president on the remarkable progress of the college under his guidance. We have left the résumé of his administration to one of our older graduates, one who himself knows what

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