dearest memories of his life. And big, square Ballou, how sedate and imposing it had looked to him on that first registration day! The chapel, too. Vividly the memory came to him of the chapel rush on his first morning in college, when the freshmen had gone out first, in spite of the combined efforts of "Prexy" and the sophomore class, to stop them. How long had that night seemed which he had spent in the tower, last fall, guarding against the attempts of the sophs. to fly their flags there. But what was that! A dazzling flash of light came from the tower windows! Instantly his senses became alert. Something was going on in the tower. It could be but one thing at that time of night-hazing! He watched the tower intently for further developments. For a few moments after the flash all was dark: then a faint, unnatural glow seemed to hover about the windows. At once he remembered the words of Jim Akeley and his companions, which he had heard earlier in the evening, and half guessed the truth. He walked noiselessly toward the chapel. Just as he was passing the Museum a crouching figure slunk by, close to him. He recognized Hutchins and, turning suddenly, seized him by the shoulder with a powerful grip. "Where are you going, Hutchins?" "None of your business!" answered the other, struggling to free himself. "What's going on up there? Where's Norcross'?" "In the tower," panted Hutchins, hoarsely. "The trap's down, and you can't get up! Old Cap's up there--you'd better keep away." Ford glanced at the tower. The glow had increased in brightness and he could see smoke coming from the windows. "Come back!" he cried, trying to drag Hutchins along with him. But just then, by a powerful twist, the skulker freed himself, and disappeared in the opposite direction. Thoroughly alarmed now, Ford started up the path at a run. In front of Ballou he almost ran into the watchman, standing as though spellbound, his eyes fixed on the tower. "Quick," gasped Ford, "the key to the trap, you have it!" He snatched the bunch of keys from old Cap's trembling hand and rushed into the chapel. One after another he inserted the keys into the lock of the trap. It seemed as though he would never find the right one. At last the lock turned and he forced the trap upward. Instantly the smouldering debris, fanned by the draught, sprang into flame. Ford glanced quickly around. No one there! He jammed his soft hat down over his eyes and ascended the ladder, which was already burning in places, to the second landing. Stretched out on the floor, his face pressed against the little opening in the tower wall, lay the unconscious form of Norcross. The fire had not yet reached him, but the smoke was stifling. Quickly Ford wrapped him in the long coat which lay near by, lifted the bound form as though it were a child and turned to the ladder. It was blazing! He shrank back in dismay at sight of the crackling inferno beneath him. But there was no other way of escape. He must go down, and quickly. He pressed the unresisting figure close to his breast, drew one long b.eath and descended. The flames eddied about him and licked his clothing. Two rounds from the bottom the ladder e-ve way and he fell to the floor. Still clutching his burden he rose by a desperate effort, staggered to the trap, and fell, unconscious, into the arms of the firemen just coming up. A stream of water instantly extinguished his burning clothing. The department had been prompt in its response to old Cap's alarm. A crowd of students, who had arrived at this time, tenderly carried him and the man whose life he had saved, to their rooms, and summoned physicians. Thanks to the overcoat, Norcross had been but slightly burned. Ford had not fared so well, but his burns were not serious, the doctor said. His hat had protected his eyes and the water had come just in time to prevent fatal burns. Two hours later Ford opened his eyes and stared blankly at the group of persons about his bedside. Then he recognized Pa Sanders standing close beside him, and remembered. He tried to smile, but the attempt ended in almost a moan as his determination of last night came back to him. Pa Sanders bent over and laid his hand gently on the bandaged forehead. "It's all right, Ford," he said, soothingly, "your deed was too much, even for Norcross, and he has confessed everything. Forgive me for what I said about disappointment, and try not to think of last night. Go to sleep now." The words were ordinary enough, that was Pa's way, but Joe Wheeler noticed that his voice trembled, and that was a most extraordinary thing for him. A. M. B., 'oI. THE KING'S LAUGH. A ponderous king of royal blood Once lived in a palace made of mud, A beautiful Persian pile. His head was bald and his shape was fat, And now on his golden throne he sat With a rosy, glowing smile. He thought of his glorious heathen land, A boiling sun at his command. Everything quite in style. And all of it made him laugh, ha! ha! In a rollicking sort of glee. He chuckled and shook Till his sides partook The look of a quince jellee. Ha! ha! A jiggly quince jellee. He called his courtiers to his side And told of the joy that filled his hide With many a mirthful jest. The courtiers laughed till the palace walls The scullions joined the rest. While all of them laughed so boistrously The city mob came in to see, And the place just reeked hilarity At the rotund king's behest. Old maids winked, Young maids smiled, The king had laughed The crowd went wild. The city yelled, Ha! ha! Ha! ha's! Of rollicking, roaring zest, Of mirth-provoking zest. But all at once there fell a hush (Like Prexy's voice at a Chapel rush.) It all stopped SUDDEN. "The king forgets," the crier droned, "Just the 'point' of the joke," the city groaned, So then the laughter had to cease; MORAL. All of it points one way, dear girls. All of it points one way. Please don't forget-next giggling spree, -Not wonder it out next day. A. P., '02. |