THE DREAMER.

HE stood beside a sluggish stream,

He heard its drowsy song,

And wished his life could ever flow

As peacefully along.

He stood beside a mighty rock

That looked upon the plain,

And wished that he could tower as high

As it above the main.

He stood beside a new-made grave,

He watched a woman weep,

And wished that life were one long day,

But death an endless sleep.

He stood within a temple's porch,

He watched the people pray,

And wished he were a god to rule

Forever and a day.

He stood upon a wooded hill,

He heard the pine-trees sigh,

And wished his soul as sweet a psalm

To echo to the sky.

He stood beside an eager boy

Who sought a mighty goal,

And wished he had his simple faith,

With half his noble soul.

He stood beside a bridal pair,

He saw the holy band,

And wished that he possessed the bride,

And held the trusting hand.

He stood beside a mountain stream,

Saw how the mill-wheel whirled,

And wished he were a mighty wheel,

Turned by the restless world.

Thus lying in the lap of life,

And feeding on her breath,

He dreamed his drowsy days away

Into the lap of death.

Z.MILTON, March 1, 1875.TO THE EDITOR OF THE MAGENTA:-

YOUR articles in the issue of February 26, on the Beacon Cup Regattas and the right of Harvard to the magenta as her distinguishing color, seemed to contain a few errors which an older memory than yours might correct.

The first Beacon Cup was rowed for in 1857, when the Harvard eight oars came in first, with the Union six oars one second behind. Few who were present will forget the desperate struggle at the finish to get the nose of the Harvard past the line in advance of the Union. There was no hope of winning the cup, which the allowance of time gave beyond a doubt to the Union. One or more of the men in the Harvard had gone into the race without proper preparation, and were incapable of doing much more than paddle long before the race was over, but the magnificent efforts of the sound men saved the crew and college from the disgrace of being actually beaten by a weaker-manned boat. My scrap-book does not mention Harvard's colors in this race, - an omission which Mr. Alexander Agassiz, who pulled bow, can perhaps supply.

In 1858 the Beacon Cup was won by the Harvard six; President Eliot - then tutor - pulling No. 3, and Mr. Agassiz bow. This, I think, was the first time of Harvard's pulling a shell. She won in 19.22, beating several Boston crews, - the Fort Hill Boy (2d, in 21.20), the James Buchanan, Shamrock, Sterling, Thistle, etc.

In 1859 the Harvard (shell) six oars won in 19.11, beating the Leader (shell) four oars, from New York, and Quickstep (shell) four oars, of Boston. An allowance of 22 seconds was made to the four-oared boats. The Leader came in second, in 20.34.

In 1860 the Harvard again won the Beacon Cup in what was considered a remarkable race. They pulled a lap-streak called the Thetis against the Brunonia (shell), of Brown University, and two Boston boats (one shell, one lap-streak), winning with a strong tide running, in 19.37.

In this year - 1860 - the Harvards wore magenta, and I think it is probable that this name was used for the first time. It was about this date that chemistry was adding largely to the known colors by developing the beautiful shades to be extracted from coal-oil. Fanciful names were given to these shades, and two were called magenta and solferino from the victories of the French in Italy in the spring and summer of 1859. The date of the battle of Magenta will sufficiently establish the earliest use of the name, even if the shade were known before. Now my scrap-book contains no mention of Harvard's colors until 1860, when I find the following:-

1st. In an extract from a paper published in Cambridge referring to the victory of Harvard at a regatta in Charlestown on June 17, 1860, there are these words:-

"Next came the Thetis, manned by the celebrated red turbans of Old Harvard, which were greeted with immense applause."

2d. In an extract from the Spirit of the Times, referring to the Beacon Cup regatta, it is said:-

"The Harvards were loudly cheered the moment their well-known red handkerchiefs were seen. They are so well known it is useless to speak of them, only it is a matter of wonder where they acquired so much endurance; their stroke is considered to be the handsomest on these waters."

3d. In an extract from the Spirit of the Times on the regatta at Worcester, when Harvard beat Yale and Brown in 18.53, the uniform of the Harvards is given: "White shirts and red handkerchiefs."

Now here we have certainly enough proof that Harvard wore in 1860 handkerchiefs of a color which the papers called red, - not an unnatural error at a time when magenta as the name of a color was little known beyond dry-goods' shops and the ladies. That these so-called red handkerchiefs were in truth of magenta, I have a pleasant reason for knowing, from having been made the object of some light feminine chaff about Harvard's taste in selecting so homely a color. In those days - as now indeed - we sometimes wore a straw hat with magenta ribbon, and some old faded magenta cravats made by the chaffers might possibly be found in forgotten boxes. It is highly probable that the oarsmen of about '60 have preserved as trophies their handkerchiefs so often worn to victory, and although the shade might not be exactly the same fashion to-day calls magenta, it would be found to be substantially the same, and evidence enough could be procured that it was at that time called magenta.

"Claudite jam rivos, pueri." Shut up, you old boy! The pen grows garrulous on the old theme of Harvard's triumph, and the memories recalled by her colors borne to the front so often in the summer of 1860.

GRADUATE OF 1860.