THE FRESHMAN'S VISITORS.

THE Freshman was drowsing over his book one night, when suddenly his door was thrown open, and in walked two strangers. They were queer companions: for one was a tramp, old, seedy, blue-nosed, and weather-beaten; and the other was a full-blown Sophomore in all the glory of cane, harlequin suit, and shirt embroidered with little pink turtles.

"Dear me!" sighed the Freshman, "am I going to be hazed, after all? I thought the class of '80 did n't allow it." Then in the manliest voice possible he asked, "What do you want, Sophomore?"

"Sophomore, indeed!" said the young man, smiling. "Well, I am more Sophomore than anything else, but I am a Junior and a Senior and a graduate, too. I am always a college man, and a man of the world as well; but my favorite resorts are summer watering-places and college societies. I was created when Eve was and have lived ever since, though I never grow old. I am a sort of Phoenix. My occupations are various, but at present I am stumping the State for Butler. You have never heard of me, I dare say! Pity! pity! time you did! Let me introduce myself. My name is Humbug; and this old fellow here is an old boxing-teacher of mine, who taught me so well that I used him up long ago. His name is Class Feeling."

"How absurd!" exclaimed the Freshman, who had been reading Hill's Rhetoric, with a view to becoming Freshman editor of the Crimson. "It is ridiculous to personify feeling, to say nothing of embodying it in such a feeble old fellow as he is."

"Don't you see me?" said the old man, "and is n't that proof enough of my existence? Once I was young and handsome and strong; then I was cherished here: but when I grew old I was neglected. The Elective System came, bringing with it a chilling atmosphere which I am too weak to bear; and so I am dying, - yes, freezing - freezing to death! Sometimes the Freshmen take pity on me, and try to warm me. I heard that you were likely to do it, and so Humbug and I have come to warn you not to take the trouble. You would only prolong a wretched life, and every one would hate you, because, alas! every one hates me. I long to die."

"Yes, Freshman," said Humbug, "you'd better let him alone. He has outlived his usefulness. Besides, everybody would laugh at you if you should try to help him."

"Is that any reason why I should n't do it?" asked the Freshman.

"Bless me! how green you are!" exclaimed Humbug. "Why, my dear fellow, you'd kill yourself, - it is n't the thing at all, you know. You have much to learn. I saw you talking today to a man with long hair. That was a mistake. You must know that this college is not your native town; it is a world by itself, and does not recognize the world around it. Here you must do as the rest do; here 'come-outers' are not tolerated; here a man must hide his heart, and make friends who will be useful to him. Policy is the keynote of a successful college career. Above all, never be enthusiastic; never work for any interest but a popular one, and be careful that you do not work too hard for that. College interests are like the enchantress in the fairy-tale, who, when the forty days of her fondness were over, made her lovers pay a terrible penalty for the crime of having once pleased her too well."

"But how do the college interests live?" said the Freshman.

"Some, like the boat-clubs, die a lingering death for want of victims; others are kept alive by men who are too zealous to take-warning by the fate of others, or too blind to heed the smiles and sneers of their classmates. The prudent man will stand aside, and let others make martyrs of themselves. Farewell, Freshman. We have more to warn to-night. Remember the watch-word, Policy! Farewell!"

The visitors were gone; but the Freshman still sat over the fire, with his head bowed upon his hands. How had his cherished ideal been overthrown by this revelation! His fair picture of college life had faded; and in its place was a gaudy thing, like one of those strange works of Turner, hideous and unreal. When will the Freshman be himself again? Perhaps in four years, - perhaps to-morrow. Until then we shall know him by his feigned face and mock-heroic air: for we, too, have all seen Humbug; and many of us, like the Freshman, have taken his advice. A few there are who realize that they have heard only Humbug's side of the question.

ION.