prophet was pouring forth in the great master's music.

When the song was ended, no one spoke for a time, and even Mr. Sims was silent. Then the lieutenant came over to the harmonium and, leaning towards Kate, said, in an earnest voice unusual with him, "Thank you, Miss Raymond. That was truly great."

"Great, indeed," said Harry, with enthusiasm. "I never heard you sing like that before, Kate."

But Ranald sat silent, finding no words in which to express the thoughts and feelings her singing had roused in him.

There is that in noble music which forbids unreality, rebukes frivolity into si lence, subdues ignoble passion, soothes the heart's sorrow, and summons to the soul high and holy thoughts. It was difficult to begin the conversation; the trivial themes of the earlier part of the evening seemed foreign to the mood that had fallen upon the company. At length Mr. Sims ventured to remark, with a giggle, "It's awfully fine, don't you know, but a trifle funereal. Makes one think of graves and that sort of thing. Very nice, of course," he added, apologetically, to Kate. Ranald turned and regarded the little man for some moments in silence, and then with unutterable scorn exclaimed

"Nice! Man, it's wonderful! wonderful to me, whatever! Makes me think of all the great things I ever saw."

"What things?" Kate ventured to say. For a few moments Ranald paused, and then replied:

"It makes me think of the big pinetrees waving and wailing over me at night, and the big river rolling down with the moonlight on it-and-other things."

"What other things, Ranald?" persisted Kate.

But Ranald shook his head and sat silent for some time. Then he rose abruptly.

"I will be going now," he said.

"You will come again soon, Ranald,” said Maimie, coming towards him with a look on her face that reminded him of the days in the Glengarry Manse. She had forgotten all about his red shirt and silk handkerchief. As Ranald caught that look, a great joy leaped into his eyes for a moment, then faded into a gaze of perplexity.

"Yes, do come," added Kate.

"Will you sing again?" he asked, bluntly.

"Yes, indeed," she replied, with a slight blush, "if you want me to." "I will come. When? To-morrow night?"

66

Yes, certainly, to-morrow night," said Kate, blushing deeply now, for she noticed the slight smile on Harry's face, and the glance that passed between Mr. Sims and the lieutenant. Then Ranald said goodnight.

"I have never had such pleasure in my life," he said, holding her hand a moment and looking into her eyes that sparkled with a happy light. "That is," he added, with a swift glance at Maimie, "from music or things like that."

Kate caught the glance, and the happy light faded from her eyes.

"Good-night," said Ranald, offering his hand to Maimie. "I am glad I came

now.

It makes me think of the last night at the Manse; although I am always thinking of it," he added, simply, with a touch of sadness in his voice. Maimie's face grew hot with blushes.

"Yes," she answered, hurriedly. "Dear Aunt Murray!"

He stood a moment or two as if about to speak, while Maimie waited in an agony of fear, not knowing what to expect from this extraordinary young man. Then he turned abruptly away, and, with a goodnight to De Lacy and a nod to Mr. Sims, strode from the room.

"Great Cæsar's ghost !" exclaimed the lieutenant. "Pardon me, but has anything happened? That young man now and then gives me a sense of tragedy. What has taken place?" he panted weakly.

"Nonsense!" laughed Maimie, "your nervous system is rather delicate."

"Ah, thanks, no doubt that's it. Miss Kate, how do you feel?"

"I?" said Kate, waking suddenly; "thank you, quite happy."

"Happy!" sighed De Lacy. "Ah, fortunate young man!”

"Great chap, that," cried Harry, coming back from seeing Ranald to the door. "Very," said De Lacy, so emphatically that every one laughed.

"Some one really ought to dress him, though," suggested Mr. Sims, with a slight

sneer.

"Why?" said Kate, quietly, facing

him.

"Oh, well, you know, Miss Raymond," stammered Mr. Sims, “that sort of attire, you know, is hardly the thing for the drawing-room, you know."

"He is a shantyman," said Maimie, apologetically, "and they all dress like that. I don't suppose that he has any other clothes with him."

"Oh, of course," assented Mr. Sims, retreating before this double attack.

"Besides," continued Kate, "it is good taste to dress in the garb of your profession, isn't it, Lieutenant De Lacy?"

"Oh, come now, Miss Kate, that's all right," said the lieutenant, "but you must draw the line somewhere, you know. Those colors, now, you must confess, are a little startling."

"You didn't mind the colors when he saved you the other day from that awful mob!"

"One for you, De Lacy," cried Harry. "Quite right," answered the lieutenant, "but don't mistake me. I distinguish between a fellow and his clothes."

give any pleasure-delighted, you know," bowing gallantly to the ladies. "Delightful!" cried Maimie.

"And Ranald pulls splendidly," said Kate.

Maimie looked at her, wondering how she knew that. "I don't think Ranald can get away every day. I'm sure he can't; can he, Harry?" she said.

"No," said Harry, "no more can I, worse luck! The governor is sticking awfully close to work just now."

And, of course, you can't be spared," said Kate, mockingly. "But couldn't you both come later? We could wait tea for you."

"Might," said Harry. "I shall make my best endeavor for your sake," bowing towards Kate, "but I am doubtful about Ranald. Perhaps we'd better not "

"Why, certainly, old chap," said the lieutenant; "what's the matter?"

"Well, the fact is," blurted out Harry, desperately, "I don't want to drag in Ranald. I like him awfully, but you may feel as if he were not quite one of us. You know what I mean; your mother doesn't know him."

tenant.

"Do let's talk of something else," said Maimie, impatiently.

Delighted, I am sure," said De Lacy; " and that reminds me that Madam was thinking of a picnic down the river this week-just a small company, you know. The man would drive her down, and take the hamper and things, and we would go down by boat. Awful pull back, though," he added, regretfully; "but if it should

Harry felt extremely awkward, knowing that he came perilously near to suspecting the lieutenant of the most despic

"Why, certainly," repeated the lieutenant. "That's all right. Bring your Glengarry man along if any one wants him." "I do," said Kate, decidedly.

"Kismet," replied the lieutenant. "It is decreed. The young man must come, for I suspect he is very much 'one of us.'" But of this the lieutenant was not quite so certain by the time the day of the picnic had arrived.

The footsteps of the summer fade
Far through the meadow and the glade,
And Autumn, laughing, brown, and gay,
Comes dancing down the woodland way.
Her russet wand she waves, and, lo!
Forest and field and thicket glow
With treasure wondrous and untold,
A flooding tide of fairy gold.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

Ah! foolish Winter-fast he flies
To clutch, with miser's hand, the prize;
Vainly he strips the branches bare-
The magic treasures fade in air.
His eager, shivering fingers hold
No remnant of the fairy gold,
And, crouching sullenly, he grieves

O'er worthless heaps of withered leaves.

F

OR an American man the gaining of admission to a German university is a simple matter. As a rule, he presents his passport and is admitted at once to all the privileges of the student body. The German must have been graduated from the Gymnasium, where he has accomplished as much work as would admit to the junior class of one of our colleges. German professors know little of our college standards, but they realize that when a man comes from America to study he is in earnest. As a matter of fact, very few Americans go to the German universities who are not college graduates. With the woman, the question of admission is quite another matter. She may hear the lectures if she can gain the consent of the individual professors, but throughout her work at the university she is on a different footing from the man. She does not pay the matriculation fee, nor does she receive the card which admits the student to concerts at half price and gives him the right, in the event of a misdemeanor, to be tried before the university tribunal instead of in the civil court, and to be incarcerated in the university prison. The usual condition upon which permission to hear lectures is granted to foreign women is college graduation. The German women, who have no colleges where they may prepare for the university, are, as a rule, admitted to the courses open to women if they have passed the teach ers' examinations which are arranged in connection with teachers' courses in several of the university towns.

The attitudes of the professors towards women students differ greatly. While some are very kind to women, others at the same university and in the same line of work refuse admission to their lecturerooms to women applicants. In a recent discussion of the question of admitting women to the university which has appeared in the German press, such objections have been seriously made as these: the women by their variety of dress distract the attention of the men; they disturb the professor by whispering during his lectures; they avail themselves of the opportunity afforded

by the lectures to "make up" to the men, diverting their thoughts from their work! Professor Roethe in Göttingen refuses to women admission to his lectures on German literature because, as is said, their presence would restrict him in his treatment of the subject. His colleague, Professor Morsbach, admits to his lectures on English literature no women except English and American college graduates. Professor Heyne, of the same university, advocates the admission of women, does not insist upon college graduation, and is kind and helpful to all women students. Professors Kline and Hilbert, of the mathematical department of Göttingen, are also very kind to women.

Permission to hear the lectures at any given university does not imply, however, that it will be possible for the woman to take there her doctor's examination. There are still only a few German universities where degrees are conferred upon women. Göttingen and Halle are two that are liberal in this respect.

Having settled the question of admission, the next thing is to decide on the lectures to be heard. The few words in the booklet announcing the courses for the semester often give little idea of the nature of the lecture. The heading "Differential Equations," for instance, might stand for lectures on any part of the subject from the first elements to the results of the professor's individual work. For the man, there is a custom which permits him to hear for several weeks all the lectures he desires before choosing those for which he will sign and pay. The woman, when she gains the professor's consent to hear him, must gain as well his permission to drop the course at the end of several lectures, if she finds it not adapted to her needs. The German students avail themselves largely of the privilege of hearing lectures probationally, and for foreigners it is even more desirable. At first the mere mannerisms of delivery of the lecturer may make his hours profitless to the newcomer, who hears preferably those lecturers whose enunciation is good.

Having ascertained from the not very

legible notices in the German script on the bulletin-board when and where our first lecture would be given, a few minutes after the hour we hung our wraps in the hallway, with those of the other students, and took the front seats in the large lecture-room, which we had reserved with our cards several days before. The desks were arranged one tier above another up to the tightly closed windows. Around were numerous charts and complicated apparatus for experiments. The room filled quickly, the students bringing their ink-wells and packages of notes. About us were hard-working Germans with closely clipped hair and ill-fitting clothes, German corps students adorned with their bright colors and conspicuous scars, handsome sun-browned Italians, Frenchmen, Polish Jews, Japanese-representatives of almost every people. Scattered among the two hundred odd men were perhaps a dozen women-Germans, Russians, Americans, and Englishwomen. The professor entered quickly, soon after the gong in the hallway had sounded a quarter past the hour, and, amid loud applause made by the scraping of the men's feet, bowed briefly, and began: "Meine Herren" (Gentlemen). His tall form was bent with years, and his first low words were lost amid the noise of the closing of doors and of the students settling down to work. There was quiet in a minute, however, and then on and on we wrote, with every sense alert to catch the rapid words, and with a deepening realization, as the minutes flew by, that we were listening to one of the greatest authorities of our day. Promptly as the gong sounded the expiration of the hour the professor bowed himself out amid more scraping of feet, and the German students hurried away to refresh themselves before the next lecture with a glass of beer and a sandwich of brown bread and sausage.

The hard-working German student hears often as many as forty hours of lectures a week. The time of the year's lecture-hearing is short, and is divided into two semesters the winter semester, from the first of November to the first of March, and the summer semester, from the first of May to the first of August. In the winter lectures begin at eight and in the summer at seven in the morning, and, with an intermission of an hour in

the middle of the day, are continued in the different departments until ten at night. The German student devotes almost all his working hours during the semester to note-taking, and regards the long vacations as the time for re-reading his notes, parallel work, and development of his thesis. It is, therefore, necessary for the American, in entering upon work at a German university, to change entirely his former plan in lecture-hearing-of covering less ground and working more. thoroughly as he goes over the ground he covers. In fact, he feels in many ways that his traditions of study have been pulled up by the roots. From the first he wonders at the lack of haste shown by the Germans, at the spirit which leads the hard-working German student, after a certain number of hours' study, to lay aside his work and spend the rest of his day in a long walk, or with his club friends over his pipe and beer-mug. As the American settles down to study he is impressed more and more by the completeness with which the responsibility of his work is thrown upon himself. With no recitations, no quizzes, he can go on from week to week and from month to month doing as little or as much work as he will. When the time comes to decide on his thesis, he is not able, as a rule, to obtain many suggestions from his professor, and has to rely principally on himself both for the selection of his theme and the details of its working out. The professor is generally much more interested in his own individual investigation than in that of his pupil. The idea is that when the student comes to the university he is there to work for himself, and to develop some line of his subject which has not yet been investigated. The length of stay at the university depends entirely upon the amount of work accomplished. It is required that the American college graduate applying for the doctor's degree shall show three years of graduate study, and that two of these years shall have been spent at German universities. Americans doing work in the languages find three years' residence abroad desirable, but students of mathematics or science, often getting sooner to their original work, are able to gain their degree in less time.

The characterizing quality of the work