The grass forms a velvety mat beneath the trees, green with their heaviest foliage. Flowers in their brightest bloom nod to each other in the warm breezes. Two solemn persons creep snail-like in at the south gate. They pause before the fountain as if to count their beads. Wrapped in melancholy thoughts they sit for a moment upon one of the benches, to breathe the rich fragrance of summer's perfumed air, while the birds make sport of their drollery. The warm sunbeams and depressing atmosphere, so inspiring to these little creatures close to nature, have deprived mankind of all animation.
   Soon these two are gone and the Campus is left to its own solitude. The streams of hurrying students have ceased to flow from one building to another. Even the halls of the central structure, once so crowded, feel only the scamper of unmolested mice. The worn walks are resting from winter's weary labors, and the Library Steps are vacant. The Fountain goes unpatronized, and the Sun Dial performs its task unnoticed. The gongs have stopped announcing the opening and closing of recitation hours, and the sound of typewriters in the Rag office is heard no more. The stillness is broken only by the birds as they scold some landscape gardener lazily performing his little tasks. Night comes and with it a silence more pronounced. The Light on the Tower, feeling its efforts unappreciated, joins the inaudible colloquy of the other campus ornaments as they vie with each other in relating the history of Nebraska, each using itself as the central figure. The University is here, but that is all. Like a stuffed animal it is lifelike in its appearance, but lifeless in its being. The inanimate body is slumbering till the soul returns.
S. 0. C.

   "Why do they call that handsome building the Temple?" inquired a stranger, pointing to the structure in question.
   The student to whom the query was addressed assumed one of those disgusted, "I'd like-to-kick-my-best-friend" expressions, and delivered the following concise and illuminating explanation:
   "Because it's the sanctuary of a religious organization and is presided over by a janitor whose powers make those of a high priest resemble those of a gent with a suffragette wife."
   But I thought it was built for the benefit of all the students of this large and growing institution." pursued the stranger.
   "That was the alleged commendable intention," replied the student, his peeved demeanor intensifying. "But like all good intentions it slipped a cog. The average Student gets to behold the interior of the Temple perhaps two or three times in the course of his career, unless he has pronounced Y. M. C. A. tendencies or is rash enough to face financial ruin by endeavoring to hire it for some student organization."
   The stranger marveled and went away. The youth who vouchsafed the information stood out in the raw, biting wind for a moment more in an effort to enjoy a few puffs at his pipe. And in the meanwhile lads and lassies alike passed by the imposing marble structure with a look of longing to enter, mingled with fear of the consequences. The Janitor, with malicious delight, drove away several students who had sought the shelter of the columns to smoke their cigarettes. And thus the Temple passed through its usual day's routine.
   It is sad to contemplate what purpose the Temple now serves and what purpose it could be made to serve. It is "indubitable" that it benefits only a small minority of the students of the University. It is equally "indubitable" that it could be made to benefit practically all.

The JOINER

   When you behold a human outline covered with gay ribbons and glittering tin, a metallic surface rivaling that of a Russian grand duke or Captain Yates on dress parade, can you bring yourself to believe that it is a species of the human race? We can not. In our opinion it is the personification of vanity, and hence an element rather than a human. It is decidedly not a product of higher education, though often found in the haunts of the Campus basking in the warm glances of a bevy of co-eds.
   This thing, or animal, becomes powerless when stripped of its tinsel adornment. It is the member of half a dozen frats and a score of clubs. It is a matter of fact that it has attained this distinction although the philosophy of Dr. Howard falls to find any reason for the phenomenon. The joiner, as it might be dubbed for convenience, spends its entire time in joining, being initiated, initiating others and talking about its sundry affiliations. Such trivial matters as studies never bother it. While the joiner has proven of no particular benefit to advanced civilization, we are not ready to brand him as useless to the world until we find out what would happen should he suddenly appear in the midst of a tribe of cannibals. Since he is pleasing to the eye of woman he is inevitably a benefit to the co-educational school. But speaking for society in the broader sense we must declare him unnecessary, harmless, and superfluous. S. 0. C.

Prof. Engberg

Oh, you students at Nebraska
Who don't study as you should ---
You are strong on dates and fussing,
But you'd better be real good
And just note this old, old Idea
Which is often noised about --
Keen Prof. Engberg sure will get you
If you
   don't
      watch
           out.
It's a pleasure to go walking
With a maid on moonlight nights,
It's great to go boat riding [Capital Beach.]
Or indulge in fancy's flights.
But don't forget this warning
It is real beyond a doubt
For Prof. Engberg sure will get you
if you
   don't
      watch
           out.
So when you're busy evenings
Making some nice social call,
Or in some cozy corner
Sitting out a tiresome ball,
Just remember this small motto
Or you'll leave in utter rout
Stern Prof. Engberg sure will get you
if you
   don't
      watch
           out.
     HARRY BURTIS.