g and unchecked revelry quite went to his head. Across and
about those wide plots of sodden turf he trotted and chuckled, a small,
quaint mortal with his hat ribbons fluttering. Cheering whistles hailed
him from open windows above, and he smiled to himself with grave
dignity. Apparently, like a distinguished statesman, he regarded these
tributes not as meant for himself, but for the great body of childhood
he innocently represents, and indeed from which his applauders are not
so inextricably severed. With the placid and unconscious happiness of a
puppy he careered and meandered, without motive or method. Perhaps his
underlying thought of a university, if he has any, is that it is a place
where no one says "Keep Off the Grass," and, intellectually speaking,
that would not be such a bad motto for an institution of learning.

I don't know whether Doctor Tait McKenzie so intended it, but his
appealing and beautiful statue of Young Franklin in front of the
University gymnasium is admirably devised for the delight of small
Urchins. While their curators take pleasure in the bronze itself, the
Urchin may clamber on the different levels of the base, which is nicely
adapted for the mountaineering capacity of twenty-seven months. The low
brick walls before the gymnasium and the University museum are also just
right for an Urchin who has recently learned the fascination of walking
on something raised above the ground, provided there is a curator near
by to hold his hand. And then, as one walks away toward the South
Street bridge an observant Urchin may spy the delightful spectacle of a
freight train travelling apparently in midair. Some day, one hopes, all
that fine tract of open space leading from the museum down to the
railroad tracks may perhaps be beautified as a park or an addition to
the University's quadrangle system. I don't know who owns it, but its
architectural possibilities must surely make the city-planner's mouth
water.

By this time the Urchin was beginning to feel a bit weary, and was glad
of a lift on a parental shoulder. Then a Lombard Street car came along
and took us up halfway across the bridge. So ended the Urchin's first
introduction to a university education.

PINE STREET

Our neighbourhood is very genteel. I doubt if any one who has not lived
in Philadelphia can imagine how genteel it is. Visitors from out of town
are wont to sigh with rapture when they see our trim blocks of tall
brick dwelling