THE PROFESSOR'S SLIP OF THE TONGUE.

The presentation of H. H. Boyesen's play, "Alpine Roses," at the Madison-square Theatre, in New York, recalls a story told by students at Cornell about the talented Norwegian, who was for several years a professor there. Prof. Boyesen used to lecture upon German literature. He was at the time writing his "Goethe and Schiller," having become a Goethe enthusiast; and he was also-a fact that was familiar to the students-enamored with the lady who has since become his wife, and who was the daughter of a New York banker. The professor's voice has a peculiar, rotund, impetuous quality, and it was never poured forth in greater volume than when he said in one of his lectures: "About this time Goethe fell in love with a rich banker's daughter in New York city." There was a roar from the students, while boots and canes rattled upon the floor like an avalanche of cobble stones in a shot tower. Boyesen covered his crimson face with his hands and turned his back to his class. That lecture was resumed on another day. [Ex.