Term Bills

On a dark, snowy afternoon, it was, in fact, last Friday, the postman was rather overburdened, as he made his customary rounds, with about a thousand extra missives, innocent looking enough in themselves, clad as they were in small and modest looking envelopes. But a closer inspection of the outside showed the ominous words, "Return to Allen Danforth," in the corner, and upperclassmen who read this legend knew well enough what was inside. Now it happened that we were sitting in the room of a prominent '85 man when this important official document fell through his letter-slip, and dropped unpretentiously to the floor. To us the disjointed comments he made while perusing the contents seemed rather to the point, and we print them, thinking that other men may recognize their pertinence.

As the steps of Billy, the postman, receded from the door, the worthy senior rose, picked up the bill, returned to his seat, relighted his pipe, opened the envelope, and then soliloquized as follows, while he read down the list of items: "Humph, here we have 'em again. Another Xmas card from the Bursar, Well, let's see how the score stands on this round. Well, first thing instruction, $50; now that's good. I've been to about 'steed recitations this year, and at half of them I've flunked, while at the other half I've spent my hour in seeing other men get flunked. 'Use of library,' that's not so bad; I've been there three times, I think. Once to get out something of Smollets', and twice to get a look at a reference book, but both times that I tried to go there to grind, I couldn't get in, because the place was shut up, soon after lunch, owing to lack of energy on someone's part to light the ranch,-Lux in temebris is evidently no motto for our enlightened authorities. Here we have 'rent and care of room, $80.' Yes, that's right enough as far as rent goes, but how about care? Look at that mantelpiece, and the things on it! Why, they're buried in ashes more hopelessly than ever Pompeii was. Our goodies are not "too good," but "satis bonxexigue," which being translated meaneth, "just good enough,"-and few of them reach even that exalted standard. Now, by the gods of Gaul, look at this! 'Gas,' $13-why, I've burned nothing except my student lamp this whole term! And what's this? 'Board at Harvard Dining Association,' $54,-well, that's rather contradicted by the next, 'Extras,' $25. If I had stuck to the regular feed I couldn't have eaten all those extras, so it seems to me they ought to wipe off either the "board" or the "extra" items. And here, may it please the Olympian Tens, is the last one of all,-the last straw, too. 'Gymnasium Locker,' $2. Now considering the fact that I lost about $30 worth of clothes out of that very locker, owing to the neglect of the athletic committee to "turn the rascals out" who have been indulging in amusing little vagaries of a kleptomaniacal nature during the entire term, I certainly think that I am the creditor of the faculty to the extent of very nearly octo et viginti sesterces.

Well, 'total amount,' $224,-that's pleasant reading for the "home rulers," but isn't it rather fortunate that my appropriations for the support of "Adams," and the "Holly Tree," aren't reckoned in on that total?"

After a few more philosophical remarks from the worthy representative of '85, we left, to examine our own bill, in doing which we were surprised to find how nearly coincident were our sentiments to those he had expressed. Yes, one touch of nature does make the whole world kin, after all.