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dispute. There is little doubt that the real solution must lie ultimately in the efforts of the individual student to cultivate and maintain a healthy system that will afford that intellectual vigor which Herbert Spencer declares is of far more importance, for success in the world, than information. We believe it is possible to assert that the average student who breaks down in college is himself or herself largely responsible, in that he or she has paid so little regard to the commonplace demands of a physical organism so constructed that it is highly efficient only when properly fed, clothed, exercised, and rested. It is safe to say that not one student in ten of those who, entering college with frail physiques, are obliged to leave before finishing, would be forced to pursue this course if the strictest attention were paid from day to day to the demands of the physical system, even though these requirements made necessary, in cases, some sacrifices of a social nature. The tenth student doubtless exists, to whom these remarks do not apply, but of the exception to the rule we are not now speaking. The gospel of individual responsibility for attainments admits of as much application in the intellectual as the moral world.

It ought to be unnecessary to remind the students that the appearance of the grass on the college grounds on Class Day depends very much on the treatment it receives during the spring. The Class Day committee is doing everything in its power to make satisfactory arrangements for our June day of festivity, and it seems as though the students ought to be willing to co-operate with the committee to the extent of exercising a little care in the use of the lawns. Although the concrete walks may not make the shortest distances between points, they nevertheless are constructed with the idea of accommodating all and of saving the grass. If students would manifest a little less thoughtlessness in their treatment of the grass and a little more care for the appearance of the college grounds they would be more than repaid by the added beauty of the campus on Class Day.

Although it gave great pleasure to be able to announce in the last issue of the TUFTONIAN, that a certain alumni note published in a previous number announcing the death of one of the graduates of the college was erroneous, it is nevertheless to be regretted that a statement was made that required retraction. The fault was not that of the alumni editor, for some kind friend had sent him a marked copy of a local paper in which, in touching words, the decease was noted of a person by the same name as one of our highly respected graduates, but who proves to have been the father of the alumnus instead of the man himself. Our first thought upon being notified of our error was to follow the example of the uncompromising Georgia editor who, upon being accosted by a man whose obituary had appeared in a former issue, stubbornly refused to retract anything that had once been given to the public as news, but offered to set the matter right by inserting the name of the offended party among the “ Births.” As the TUFTONIAN supports no column of this description, however, it became necessary to make a full retraction, and this was cheerfully done.

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Cycling through

Europe.

One could not have had a much prettier day to enter Swit

zerland than July 28, 1894. With a good day and good roads, a [CONCLUDED.]

cyclist in Switzerland is in a paradise; but that paradise has hills, some of which he may have to walk. After an excellent dinner at Vallorbes and a push up one of the Jural mountains, the pleasure and delight of cycling is enjoyed in all its fulness. The descent is gradual and winding, and the scenery grand on all sides. The road follows the railway,

and one is obliged to stop frequently on account of the numerous crossings of the track and road. At such places, when the gates are closed, one has to dismount and wait until he is allowed to pass by the women attendants, who never seem in a hurry, a fact which is tantalizing to the average American, who likes to make -haste. Often there is only room on the mountain-side for the road, and the railway passes through tunnels. At such places one can stop and look over the wall, down into deep chasms, where, out of sight, roar the mountain torrents. To the right, and overhead, tower the Jural's ridges. The awfulness of this scene thrills one through and through, and one wonders what will follow.

As a large mountain is rounded at its sharpest point, there bursts into view one of the grandest sights I have ever beheld. The Alleghenies had furnished the writer with some sublime scenes before, but they were not to be compared with this. No artist could reproduce the scene, and words are inadequate to describe it, yet a mention of the situation of the mountains may give the reader some idea of what was seen. Looking east, and a little to the left, hundreds of feet below the road, one could see the deep blue lake of Neuchatel lying calmly among the hills and glistening in the sunshine. Back of the hills before us, and stretching from the farthest visible point north to the extreme south, was a long line of peaks which form what is known as the Bernese Alps or Bernese Oberland. Some of the peaks were sharp and rugged, others were covered with snow and reached up into the clear blue sky for many thousand feet. It was a grand and beautiful sight to one who had long wished to see the Alps. At the base of the mountains was a broad expanse of rich farming land, which furnished ever-changing scenery to the rider. Far to the south there came into view a great white giant; he raised his immense peak hundreds of feet above all others and seemed to stand out alone. Indeed he was the monarch of the group, and was made more conspicuous by having his whole summit and sides a brilliant white. The very greatness of this peak told me that it was Mt. Blanc, and the French name was self-evident, for it was indeed a white mount, as any one could see, even at a distance of some sixty miles. Mt. Blanc is 4,810 feet in height and stands in France just over the Swiss border.

It was late in the afternoon when the town of Lausanne was reached. This place is on the hill above Lake Geneva, and is one of the finest summer resorts found in Switzerland. From its heights the Bernese Alps can be seen for miles, and the lake, which Phillips Brooks pronounced “ the prettiest in the world,” can be seen at its best. From Ouchy, a little place on the lake right below Lausanne, at 6 P.M., the boat was taken for Geneva, the charge for myself and bicycle being but fifty cents for a three-hours' ride on one of the bluest and prettiest lakes I ever saw. On the southeastern side, the Alps come almost down to the shore, while on the opposite side is a thriving farming country, with the Jurals in the background. The lake is about fifty miles long, and several lines of steamboats carry thousands of tourists annually.

When we landed at Geneva we found the streets thronged with people enjoying the cool evening, drinking their beer and listening to music out of doors. Geneva is a large city, and its many fine buildings give it an aristocratic appearance. One could easily spend a week there seeing the sights and climbing into the mountains back of the city, which rise to from one thousand to two thousand feet in height. The outlet of the lake is the river Rhone, and its mad rush of blue water through the city, as seen from the bridge, is an interesting sight. Of all the sights, however, the lake is the prettiest, and the tourist visiting Geneva will find it drawing him to its shores again and again. At Lausanne a climb was made over the mountains, through which a beautiful road leads toward Berne. As the descent was being made, great banks of clouds came rolling toward the Alps from the Jurals, and when they were overhead let fall much rain and hail.

“ Far along
From peak to peak the rattling crags among,

Leaps the live thunder ; not from one lone cloud,
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,

And jura answers from her misty shroud
Back to the joyous Alps, who call to her aloud."

Showers continued the rest of the day, but between them Moudon was reached at dark. The hotel proprietor spoke good English, and a pleasant evening was spent in conversation.

The ride to Berne next day was made by noon, and after a very cheap German dinner in that quaint town my wheel was turned toward Thun and Interlaken. Round about Geneva and Lausanne French is spoken, but at Berne German was in more frequent use. A milestone read something like this near Berne, “7 Stunden von Berne.” The meaning was plain, but what the distance of a “Stunde” was I was unable to compute or learn, until an English tourist told me it was about as far as one could walk in an hour, or somewhere between three and four miles.

Rain and muddy roads forced me to take lodging between Thun and Interlaken, but the next day it was worse. The good roads of Switzerland were gone, and much walking had to be done to get to Interlaken, where the roads improved. Brienz was reached for dinner. I was all the morning among some of the finest Alpine scenery, but the rain and mist interfered with seeing it at its best. The Jungfrau was full of snow and also several peaks near it. The lake at Brienz was similar to the other lakes, which are connected with one another and feed the river Rhone at Geneva. Right after dinner the riding ceased and Brunig Pass had to be climbed. Taking off my coat, I began the ascent. As I got higher and higher the warmer became the work. an hour's hard climb and push the clouds completely enveloped me and the rain increased so that I was obliged to find shelter under great masses of rocks which overhang the road. When the wind clears the mist away one can look out over the valley below, and the Swiss cottages appear very picturesque on the small level plain that lies among the mountains. Above, here and there, are small glaciers which supply the streams that fall into the lake. Opposite Brienz, a large stream falls into the lake from a tremendous height, forming a beautiful waterfall that can be seen for miles. When the pass had been traversed, the mountains looked dismal with their tree-covered slopes and snow-capped peaks, and one wanted to get out of their chilly atmosphere and lonesomeness. As the rain was increasing, I hastened down the mountains with their flooded roads. It was an exciting and thrilling ride, and the brake did excellent service at the sharp turns. To ride through clouds is a novelty, but add to them rain and Aying mud, and one can imagine some of the discomforts of cycling, and you can feel that a cyclist's lot is not always a pleasant one. But experiences like that ride stick well in the memory, and Brunig Pass will remain in your bump of location forever if you take a similar ride. At Lucerne there were many sights to be

The town of Lucerne is situated on the lake, and tourists can be seen everywhere, and English is in the air if you wander by the lakeside or into the glen where the famous lion carved out of a large rock is found. It is said that in winter-time this large carving is covered so that the cold will not crack it. After leaving Zurich the next day, the ride was through a very level country. The lands were well tilled and the houses looked neat and cosey. It did not appear like Switzerland. The upper Rhine was crossed at Zackingen, and Germany was entered where the country is nearly a dead level and good roads are plentiful. The Swiss custom officers returned to me my eight dollars which was paid for duty when Switzerland was entered. They paid it in eight five-franc silver pieces, which made a heavy load for my pocket.

seen.

GERMANY.

After passing many German soldiers guarding the frontier, the town of Basel was reached before dark and lodgings were secured on the river. Next day, August 4, the ride to Strasburg began. This is a very pretty city. The cathedral spire is said to be one of the tallest in Europe. Near it was noticed one stork's nest built on a chimney-top, with a stork perched near it. In Strasburg Sunday services in English are held in the morning, near the Emperor's palace, a magnificent structure which cost an immense amount of money, but which it is said that the Emperor has occupied only once. Canals run through the city, and fishermen can be seen in scores on the banks and in boats, patiently waiting for what we would call minnows to bite.

Monday morning, Strasburg, with its soldier-thronged streets, was left behind, and the ride through the great Rhine plain began. The rear tire kept leaking, and again, after dinner, the train had to be taken into Heidelberg. Going to the banker’s, no new tires could be found, so a wait of half a day was taken. The principal sight in that beautiful city, which lies on both sides of river Neckar as it enters the Rhine valley, is the old castle. From its height the city can be seen to the best advantage, with the great Rhine valley as a background. A young Californian, who was taking a morning siesta under the trees near the castle, said there were about fifty American students in Heidelberg. He was studying history. Tuition was about $5.00 a term, and two terms constituted a college year. Board could be had cheap, and a fine room rented by the month costs about $4.00. About four miles outside of Heidelberg, the wheel became useless and it had to be pushed into town. It was very annoying to be continually patching the tire, so walking was tried, after the great Luther monument was visited. Supper was taken in Worms, and then the walk began over a beautiful road that followed the swift-running Rhine. Mile after mile was conquered; seven o'clock came, then followed eight, and no place to lodge could be seen on the plain ahead; half-past nine came and with it darkness, and still it was walk and push. Soaked with perspiration, foot-sore and tired, I was just deciding to make a bed in a grain-field, with sheaves for a covering, when a light ahead attracted me. It proved to be a teamster repairing his wagon by torchlight. He was at the forks of a road, and through his direction I took the right road and came to a railway station just on the edge of a small town. Here lodging could not be found, but two bouncing big peasant girls escorted me into the village. We chatted as best we could in German and became good friends for the time. Although my German was limited, I could feel those two young women were in sympathy with the tired “ Americaner Student,” who was now unable to find lodging. They held a short consultation together, and then knocked at the door of the inn, and the landlady, who had refused me once, came out again. To her they pleaded, and she finally consented to take me in, and a great burden was lifted from my mind. The kindness shown to me by those two roughly dressed girls was beautiful, and when they received all the sweet chocolate I had in my grip they bade me “gut Nacht" with smiling faces. The landlady took a great interest in the “ Americaner,” and a fine room and a clean bed were thoroughly enjoyed after the hardest tramp of the tour. At “ Bingen on the Rhine” the hills come together and the picturesque river scenery begins. The hills run up almost right out of the winding river, and these are covered with vineyards by the hundreds. Above the vineyards, on prominent points, rest the old castles, relics of warlike days. Fine roads run along the Rhine all the way to Cologne; the grade is slightly down, and one can easily ride at a twelve-mile-an-hour pace and see the ever-changing scenes at the same time. Small towns are passed through every few miles, and the road forms the main street, while the houses are built against the hills. Darkness stopped the eye-feast at Salzig, six miles below St. Goar, but next morning the ride continued in a brilliant sunshine, and these old Rhine hills looked charming as the mist was rising from the river early in the morning. At Coblenz one has to get off the bicycle, as riding is not allowed in that city. On leaving this place the hills drift back from the river, and away one goes over a vast plain. Fruit and nut trees line the roads in Germany, and one is often tempted off his wheel to pick up a nice pear or apple lying on the ground.

The Dom (Cathedral) of Cologne can be seen for miles away, owing to the great plain on which Cologne is built. That city was reached at about five o'clock. It is so modern looking that one feels at home on its streets and in its stores.

BELGIUM.

Along the river Medse I took dinner with the French, and their genial hospitality was striking after coming from Germany over into Belgium. It was a struggle with rain-showers and mud all the afternoon, and near supper-time Namur was reached, and there the river was left and a cut toward the battle-field of Waterloo commenced. Although mud was left behind, the roads were worse after leaving Namur, for the pavé began and the blocks of stone were large and uneven and difficult to ride over. Only about six miles were walked and ridden, when lodgings were secured in a neat and clean inn twenty-one miles from Waterloo. I was glad to be among the French again, for they seemed like friends. They are kind and become interested in one all the time, and look after one's comfort in every way. After a good supper the evening was spent in conversing, in a very limited way, with the son and daughters of mine host. They were fully grown, and as we sat together in the clean kitchen under a brilliant lamp which made the walls look the whiter, I gave them lots of amusement in trying to walk in their wooden shoes. Before going to bed one of the girls washed my Aannel shirt, which had not seen a washtub for two weeks at least. When, Sunday morning, I went to settle my account with one of the daughters for my meals and lodging the charge was only ten cents. When I came to pay for the washing of the Aannel shirt all she would take was two cents, and I could not force her to take more. That was the cheapest hotel-bill of the summer's trip.

My aim was to attend church on the battle-field of Waterloo, but the stone roads delayed me. At Waterloo, a climb to the top of the Lion monument gave a fine view of the battle-field. The grain was ripened and the once bloody field was then of a golden hue. After dinner in a little whitewashed inn, a ride of about twelve miles brought me to Brussels. That city reminds one of Paris, the fine buildings and boulevards have a similar look. Sunday afternoon and evening is the play-day for the inhabitants. Church services are held in the early morning, and after that the people enjoy themselves in various ways. The parks and boulevards were filled with people out walking and driving. Cyclists were plentiful. A half-day more was taken on Monday to see the art gallery and other sights, and then a few hours' ride by the side of a canal brought me to Antwerp. Just outside that city my wheel “gave up the ghost ” and my tour was ended. A few days were spent in that city, and then a steamer was taken to England, and after a few days at Leeds and Liverpool the steamer Cephalonia, of the Cunard Line, carried me back to dear old Boston, where I landed September 1, having been gone just twelve weeks to the day.

This little account does not begin to do justice to a trip awheel through Europe. People imagine it costs a small fortune to see Europe. It does if you go and put up at the best hotels ; but if you are satisfied with smaller ones (and you can find plenty of them ) you can easily live on $1.00 per day. In most of the countries you will find meals costing from eighteen to twentyfour cents, and lodging about the same. If you wish to go in grand style and live with the other tourists and see more of the tourists than the peasantry, you can do it for $2.00 a day; but if you don a good stout suit of clothes, and take a ticket on the Cunard line, for $65.00, over and back, you can see Europe for less than $1.00 a day. Your bed would be so clean and sweet in most cases that you would be surprised, and the plain food would be cheaper than a doctor's bill at home. Lee Merriweather has published a book entitled “How To See Europe on Fifty Cents a Day,” and any one wishing to tramp over Europe cheaply would do well to read it. Next to cycling, “ footing it” beats the railway, if you wish to see the country and people. This was my object, and the sights were often included. By sights I mean the art galleries, cathedrals, castles, etc. A week in Paris and London should be-figured on a European trip. In both these cities living is very cheap. As an experiment I lived a day in London, on good food and had plenty, for the sum of twenty-one cents. To do so takes time and trouble, and time is valuable when in London. In closing this sketch I can say that of all the vacations, trips, and tours I have ever taken, none has given me so much knowledge, joy, and delight as did cycling through Europe alone.

J. HARNER WILSON.

MARSH-LANDS IN WINTER.

The morning sunlight floods an ice-seamed plain,
Where faded, frozen grasses stiffly stand,
Frost-sprinkled o'er; high-stacked on either hand,
Brown cones from summer's largess yet remain.
Mid-ocean's hue yon pool's free waters feign,
In ripples blowing to the hoar-fringed land.
On bluest skies thin vapor-shapes expand,
That melt beneath the day-god's steady rain.
Save here and there a coterie of crows,
Upwinging, startled, from some grewsome feast,
No living habitant the scene disturbs.
Yet, poising silver-white above the snows,
A kingly sea-gull from the shivering East
As to admire, his course aerial curbs.

M. M. S.

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