The Advocate.

The number of the Advocate which appears today contains much that is excellent, and little that is wholly uninteresting. One of the best stories that has appeared in the Advocate for a long time is Mr. French's "A Grateful Little Cuss."

The longer editorials deal with the baseball dispute, and the proposition that the graduates of the professional schools be allowed to vote for Overseers. In regard to the former matter the Advocate speaks its mind very frankly, endorsing and strengthening the position of the CRIMSON. The editors point out clearly the inherent weakness of Yale's contention of ignorance concerning the Athletic Committee, and recognize entirely the fact that college sentiment will not now allow games to be arranged with Princeton this year under any circumstances whatever. The propostion to permit the graduates of the professional schools to vote for Overseers is thoroughly discussed, and finally receives the Advocate's approval.

"A Grateful Little Cuss," by Mr. R. T. French, is a delightful piece of work. The little street gamin, proud of his robbery in his friend's behalf, in spite of all that can be said to him by way of remonstrance, makes a very pathetic hero, and enlists the reder's unrestricted sympathy. The dialect is especially well done.

Mr. Corb in's tale of the "Wide-eyed Moose on the Thunderbolt" is excellently told. The surprise is carefully treasured up till the end, and the reader who has followed the boasting hunters' fortunes can hardly fail to laugh aloud at their final discomfiture.

"More Serious Nonsense" is not so good. It contains several clever bits of dialogue, but on the whole seems labored and amateurish. The fact is that to be amusing, serious nonsense must be very well done indeed.

Two less ambitious sketches, entitled "Pattes des Mouches," and "The Expected Hour," together with the "College Kodaks," complete the number. "The Expected Hour" is a rather vivid anaiysis of the sensations of a modern novelist, who has all his life wondered how it would feel to die, and who can hardly do himself justice when the hour at length arrives. We are curious to see more from the same pen.

The "College Kodaks" have only a remote connection with college subjects, and this fact seems rather to their advantage. On the whole they are decidedly better than usual. They show a certain feminine delicacy of touch, which we are rather surprised to find in the masculine student of English 12. "Poor Henry" seems to us a study quite beyond the ordinary routine work of daily themes.