She looked at me pityingly. cat-tails grow," she repeated Well, after you've come out

so, when it's green, and then it will dry, and turn brown and fluffy. There's more clematis by the road, and golden-rod and asters in the fence-corners. But after you've gotten through the ravineand you'll need rubber boots.""I haven't any," I interposed. "You'll need them where the convincingly, "because its marshy. on the other side there's a wild-plum thicket, and a little farther on a butternut-tree." Here I noticed her fingers were somewhat stained, but she only smiled and said, "You'll find two very nice stones there, only the butternuts are rather green as yet. I stayed only a little while to day,—sometimes I don't get any farther. But there are wild cherry-trees beyond the pasture bars where you get out on the slope of Richmond. Richmond Hill, you know?" she said, looking over to its smooth greenness.

"I've never been up," I answered cautiously. "Is it a hard climb ?"

I

"Well, I didn't go up this afternoon," she confessed. "Its nice under the pine at the top, on windy days, but I wanted to go over to the woods on the left side and get wild grapes. never saw the vines so full ;-but I won't ask you to have any," intercepting my glance towards the bark basket on her arm, "for they're nice only when you've gathered them yourself, and had to climb, too. Other people always say they are sour."

If she had expected to fire me with a desire to climb and discover for myself, she was disappointed, for I presently remarked that I had been out already half an hour, and that I should like to walk back to College with her now.

She looked at me with a suspicious twinkle in her eye, and said as we strolled down the lane, "If you were a Freshman, I should ask you to come with me to-morrow. I am going to introduce one to Cedar Ridge. Do you know, I almost wish we were like the boys at schools in Germany, who all have to take tramps over the country on half-holidays with their teachers. Only the delightful element of rambling at will would be lacking." "And the half-holidays?" I ventured. "Well, except on Saturdays, it isn't always possible to get the time. Long tramps, like North Beacon, and hunting arbutus in the hills across the river in the spring, or following our creek down to the Hudson

would have to be reserved for special occasions, but I think any one of us could extend her hour's “ex." into two or three, on at least one day in the week, if she wanted to, and so get some idea of the world about her.

"It seems such a pity," she went on, "that so many new people should come here and take up their lives inside a narrow circumference like the College hedge. O yes, I see them pacing the walks, wandering around the flower-beds with well-meaning Sophomore friends, and, occasionally, in the Pines or on Sunset Hill. But I don't believe a dozen of them, before the first snow, will have seen Sunrise Hill, with the woods where the partridge berries grow, and the fields where you can hear the first meadowlarks in the spring."

I reflected guiltily that my first spring had been ignorant of meadow-larks, and that I had never explored "Boardman's" or "College Hill" or known the way to "Wappinger's Creek."

"Who is going to take them to find gentians, or to Lover's Leap, or to the woods behind the Trotting Park? They won't know where to look for hepaticas and blood-root in April or where to find the first blue-bird or thrush, or when the pussywillows are just coming out. There is one place where you can find them as early as Washington's Birthday, and-O! let us turn up this road to the cider mill! It's open to-day, and wouldn't you like a glass?"

So I pledged my firm, new resolve that the next bright Saturday afternoon should find me on my way to Cedar Ridge, or Boardman's," wherever that may be.

Gleaming and golden the bright "Though you've been dead four

See how the wheat in its beauty Columbus, O Columbus,

To talk about the college journals for June would be like stirring up the ashes of a dead past and so,-peace to their classday notes and commencement essays-we will let them rest, and turn at once to

THE MAGAZINES:

And first, a word of grateful acknowledgement for the courtesy and consideration which the MISCELLANY has received at the hands of these giants of journalism. Perhaps our relations in the journalistic world are, at present, a little like those of the lion and mouse; if it seems so to a superficial observer, be it at least remembered that the ultimate obligation was not all on the side of the mouse!

The Century, oldest and most constant of our friends, opens with an article, the first of a series, on "What I saw of the Paris Commune," by Archibald Forbes. The descriptions are vivid and scholarly, and the series promises to be extremely interest

ing. The pages of this number are rich, even for the Century, in the variety and excellence of the articles they contain. The article on the corrupt uses of money in elections, by Professor J. W. Jenks, of Cornell University, is one of the best and most practical things that has yet been written on the subject. In the department of fiction a rather unique feature is a tiny study by Mary E. Wilkins, "The Whist Players," a little prose poem that is like an exquisite gem, with every facet polished and perfect. The two-part story, "A Mountain Europa," is finished in the October number. In character study and in its artistic development, the story is very strong and original.

The Cosmopolitan, under the Brisben in the evolution of the modern magazine. It has a characteristic tone of its own, as clear-cut and direct as the design of its red and buff cover,-which is not beautiful, by the way, but eminently practical and wholly different from everything else. In regard to its literary matter, the magazine is noticeable for the wide range and variety of its subjects, and for a certain essentially American quality, which, for want of a better word, I may describe by the essentially American word go. The articles, poems, and stories are direct, crisp and to the point. One may not like them all, but one is not likely to be bored by any of them. That the Cosmopolitan has an exceptionally fine list of contributors goes without saying; also,-which does not always follow,-it has the happy faculty of getting the livest work out of those contributors.

editorship of John Walker, promises to do something definite

We count the magazine a most valuable addition to our table. M. L. B.

ment.

Perhaps not the least popular feature of Harper's Magazine are those fascinating departments, "Editor's Study," "Editor's Drawer," and "Literary Notes," which abound in useful hints regarding the world of politics, of literature and of amuseWhile they are not up to their usual standard this month, still they contain much that is interesting and instructive, as, for instance, the discussion of summer literature in its various bearings, and of the books which are read, with criticisms concerning some of them. We are always glad to see something from the pen