History Repeats Itself.

Long, long ago, before the glory of Greece and Rome had begun to fade, there lived in the oriental city of Harvardium a body of wise and venerable men. It was their duty to exercise a protective care over the people, as well as to act on all public measures conjointly with another somewhat numerous but equally learned body.

One of the laws of Harvardium was that no foreigner should be admitted to the sacred precincts and classic shades of their renowned city, unless he was able to spell ten words of a language long since in its grave. The words were so difficult to master and pronounce, that comparatively few obtained the privileges of citizenship. Other cities, notably Cornellsium, were rapidly augmenting their population by increased acquisition of new citizens, who not only rose to distinction in advancing the infant sciences, but aided materially in defending the city in times of danger.

Time went on, and Harvardium jealously observed the increasing power and importance of her sister cities. At last, the body of learned men, called the Facultas, revoked the obnoxious requisite for citizenship, and reports came from distant lands that large numbers of people were flocking to Harvardium, to take advantage of the culture and facilities of the place. Now it happened that the members of the Facultas received very meagre salaries for their arduous and valuable services, while the Board consisted of men who were either very wealthy, or lived on fame-a kind of ambrosial fruit, which was said to possess peculiar properties, and insured the fortunate eater happiness and sustenance.

The Board, however, resented this innovation as an encroachment upon their prerogatives, and immediately announced publicly that the Facultas had authority in the premises, and that an omen, presumably sent by Custom, a tutelary god of the Harvardians, had been interpreted as signifying the downfall of the city, if such a timehonored statute were repealed. Of the events that followed, there are many and conflicting accounts. Some say, that an amicable compromise was effected; others, among them Crimsonius, a well-known historian of that time, relate that upon the Facultas refusing to accede to the Board's demands, two partisan factions arose, and to such a pitch of animosity were they driven, that in umpty eighty-five, a fierce and desperate conflict took place, in which the Boardists were ignominously routed.

Z.