A PHILOSOPHER once by his daughter was asked
A question by which he was mightily tasked.
"Will you, my dear father, to me be so kind
As to tell me exactly what constitutes mind?"
The brief answer was:
"No matter, my daughter."
The maid by this answer was sorely perplexed,
And her father again with a query was vexed.
"Since mind is no matter, I would like it defined
What that matter is of which no matter is mind."
The answer then was:
"O, never mind, daughter."
Exchange.WE find on our table the initial number of the Chi Phi quarterly, devoted, according to the editorial, to the interests of that fraternity. From motives of delicacy we have refrained from prying into the department which treats of the secrets and doings of this great brotherhood, but we were much struck with a bit of poetry entitled "Dead." Zimine, the heroine, is represented on the top of a "mist-shrouded mountain," while her lover "stands still in the gathering dew" at the foot, "listening and waiting" for her. The following verse, on account of the boldness of metaphor in the first two lines, the startling paradox in the second two, and the realistic beauty of the refrain which ends the stanza, we copy in full: -
Here, in the gloom, are two eyes, Zimine,
Stabbing the dark and me, -
Two great, round, motionless eyes, Zimine,
That seem, and seem not to see;
And from under these motionless eyes
Come owlish and strange replies
To the thought that within me lies;
Tu-whit ! Tu-who !
Untrue ! Untrue !
THE Amherst Student, in an editorial, assigns its reasons for withdrawing from the Regatta in a straightforward, manly way which commands our respect, though we think her action a mistaken one. If the pledges of the Saratoga Rowing Association are fulfilled, Amherst will again enter the contest next year.