."--Omaha Bee.

We trust Mr. Haller called up the Professor and explained what he meant.

* * *

_THE PASSIONATE PURE FOOD EXPERT TO HIS LOVE._

_Come live with me, my own pure love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
In passion unadulterated
And bliss that isn't benzoated._

_Love's purest formula we'll spell:
Our joys will never fail to jell.
The honeyed kisses we imprint
Will show of glucose not a hint._

_Your Wiley will your food prepare,
And cook a meal to curl your hair;
And every morning you shall have a
Rare cup of genuine Mocha-Java._

_And you shall have a buckwheat cake
Better than mother used to make,
And sirup from the maple wood--
Not a vile sorghum "just as good."_

_The eggs, the bacon, and the jam
Shall he as pure as Mary's lamb;
And nothing sans a pure-food label
Shall grace your matutinal table._

_Oh, hearken to your Harvey's suit,
And 'ware the phony substitute.
If pure delights your mind may move,
Come live with me and be my Love._

* * *

Prof. Brown of Carlton College complains that college faculties are
concerned with the mental slacker and the laggard, that they have geared
their machinery to the sluggard's pace. True enough, but not only true
of educational institutions. In a democracy everything is geared to the
pace of the weak.

"As for authors," sighs Shan Bullock, "their case is fairly hopeless.
But I recognize that in the new democracy even average intellect has no
place at present. The new democracy is on trial. Until it has proven
definitely whether it sides with cinemas or ideals, there is not even a
living for men who once held an honored place in the scheme of things.
That is a dark saying, but I think it is true."

* * *

We thought the doubtful honor was possessed by the United States, but
M. Cambon declares that there is no other country where people take so
little interest in foreign politics as they do in France.

* * *

A nervy Frenchman, M. Bourgeois, has translated "The Playboy of the
Western World." You can imagine with what success. "God help me,
where'll I hide myself away and my long neck naked to the world?"
becomes "Dieu m'aide, ou vais-je me cacher et mon long cou tout nu?"

* * *

The President of the Chicago Chapter of the Wild Flower Preservation
Society wrote to the Department of Agriculture for