The Syracuse Journal, Volume 4, Number 6, Syracuse, Kosciusko County, 8 June 1911 — Page 6

Syracuse Journal W. G. CONNOLLY, Publisher. SYRACUSE. - - INDIANA.

■■■ — OF COURSE IT WAS ACCURATE After Such an Explanation How Could Correctness of Half-Bushel Measure Be Doubted? Fartner Giles had ffigard rumors of the short-weight scandal, but as for himself he was honest in thought, word and deed. He was naturally incensed when an apple-buyer from the city objected to his half-bushel measure. - “I've used that red bucket five /ears,” he said, “and I know it's correct.” “A dozen years’ use wouldn’t affect its correctness,” was the reply. “Have you any other reason for thinking it Is correct?” The farmer controlled his anger. i, and after a moment’s thought led his critic to the corn crib and showed him a basket woven from hickory splits. “That measure twice full fills this,” he said. “And this holds exact |y a bushel.” “How do you know it does?” 4 “Because Bill Sullivan made It, as fie baskets for everybody, and be said it was a bushel.” Still the man was not satisfied. •They went to interview Bill. “Why, of course,” said the basketmaker, “I weave every one of them of an exact size. I make only one pat tern basket to hold a bushel.” “But how do you know the patten * holds a bushel?” “How do I know? I’m sure of it. 1 made it, originally, to hold two of this half-bushel basket.” “And this* half-bushel basket?” • Bill frowned and pulled his hair in an effort to remember. Then his face brightened. “Why, yes,” he said, “I’m sure of it I tried it one time, Giles, by that old . red . busket measure of yours!”— Youth’s Companion. Neighborly Help. Shortly before departing on a three weeks’ visit to a distant city, Benjamin Rawn, who lives near Colfax, In the state of Washington, intimated to several neighbors that he believed that somewhere in a ten-acre lot on his farm there was an immense ; amount of gold dust which had been buried there by a miserly ancestor. "When he returned from his visit he found that lot plowed and replowed more thoroughly than it ever had been before. Mr. Rawn has planted that lot in potatoes, and so far as can be ascertained, he has never asked whether the plowmen found any buried treasure. It seems that Mr. Rawn has some exceedingly friendly and helpful Also, he has read his Aesop. Terse and Accurate. The fashion of naming its homes had invaded Peytonville. There were the usual “Seven Oaks,” “Twin Oaks,” “Four Oaks,” “The Spruces,” and so on. Invitations to social doings invariably appeared with some name for the residence engraved with the date. You merely counted up the shrubbery and named your house. ; One day two ■well-to-do young bachelors, in blithe and joyous mood, sent i cut invitations for a party at their home, and felt that they had quite i surpassed all others in the field when their cards appeared with “One Maple and Three Boxelders” engraved on them for place of residence. —Harper’s Magazine. Proved. The little boy had persisted in tryi Ing to annoy all the passengers In the i car. At one of the stations a very fashionably dressed lady took the seat directly back of him. He climbed up on the seat and began roguishly to wink at her. “Johnny,”' said his patient mother, “you must not wink at ladies. That Is naughty. If you do, you will never grow big.” . “Why, ma,” was the startling reply, 1 “that fat man across the aisle winked at the lady, and he is big.”—Lippincott’s Magazine. Os Course Not. “There !s an oppressive silence in the Whizzle flat” “Maybe no one Is at home.” “Oh. yes. Mr. and Mrs. Whizzle are both there.” “Maybe Mrs. Whizzle has her mouth full of hairpins and can’t talk.” “Pshaw! Having a mouth full of hairpins doesn’t keep a woman from talking.” , Thought He Made Them. *Td dearly love to go behind your prescription counter some time,” said rthe little girl to the druggist. “Why would you, Ethel?” asked the pillman. “Because I’d like to see how you make those little green and red postage stamps you sell!’.’ Interpretation of His Dream. : Boarder —I had a most peculiar dream last night. I dreamed that you ‘ let me off on my board bill, that you • paid my tailor, my shoemaker and my laundryman. I wonder what it all means ?” Landlady—lt means that you are going to move. —Judge. ® An Open Countenance. “Anfcway, he has an honest face.” "Honest? You surprise me.” “Yes, it’s the only honest thing about him. It shows how dishonest he really _ K .

copypioHT by »»h.o a otrkam '’M—l

« Jgf IGHT I have a word ' with you, sir, withI B out the cabin?” I B Immediately leaving my associates, I followed the short, rKjLrgya muscular, athleticflgof cam P d° c ' n~rj tor out to the edge of fhj the forest. “What’s up, Doc?” I asked expectantly. “I want the ’elp of a man as ’as the nerve to do an ugly job before daylight,” he whispered sententiously. Murder?” I tried to smile. “Mayhap.’” he quietly replied, to my amazement. “That lets me out, Doc. I’m off. for my bunk.” “No it doesn’t” -he hissed, following my hesitant retreat. “What brings me ’ere late at night in a storm is more important to the company and its hundred and sixty-two hands in camp, than to you and me. This job’s goin’ for-ard tonight, come what may. I And" you who are handy with a gun and I who have no talent for talk afterward —wels, it’s we two for the. perfawmence. I’m dead serious, I am, and you’ll stand by—l’m certain of that. Come, the tide’s just a-turnin’. We'll have to be movin’ with it. Every moment we’re nearer a stampede and a panic in camp. Get your gun and 1 sneak to my hut right away. Not a i peep to them gents from Boston, nor 1 to any one else. We’re going for 1 bear, understand plain brown bear — tomorrow.” ! That Alaskan night was of the foul- J est! A fretful kamook bayed dismally on the opposite shore where Haida 1 Indians sometimes dwell on their ’ canoe voyages among the Prince of ■ Wales Islands. The Coplan Copper ’ company’s smelter cast fitful pattern's of light and shadow upon the freezing bay. The wild voice of the hills smote ' the sea beyond with a hiss and roar. January was in angry mood in the wilderness as I kicked the snow from my boots before the doctor’s cabin,, and his hound uttered a long, low growl within. It seemed but a moment when our pipes were loaded, the “whuskey” on the rude table beside us, and the fire roaring in the doctor’s little rusty stove. Turning suddenly and bringing his fist to the level of my face, the little man unpacked himself brusquely. “Am I correctly informed that you’re leaving camp for the east -on the next boat?” “That’s my intention unless this storm detains me.” “■Well, sir,” continued the doctor,, as he placed a foot on the hound’s thick neck and recharged his glass, “I hope nothing will interfere with your leavin’; but I can’t see the horizon of a little mess down near the Indian quarters behind the mill. You see, I can’t say anything’ to those timid city directors about it, fearin’ of their indiscretion and a tangle with the health officer at the port o’ entry. Them directors hate me! Now you’ve appealed to me as a man of the woods. You’ve been about some where a man’s got to be several times a man. This d d Indian must be handled mightily rough tonight. At least we can’t weep over him. He sneaked In night before last without permission, and It’ll explode any minute.” When the doctor rummaged for two black shroud-like gowns and carelessly threw them across the bed, I suspected that we were either to lynch somebody, commit a corpse to the sea or participate in some ghoulish ceremony of pagan belief amongst the Slwash across the bay. Finally I blurted: “Doc, what are these black kimonas for? Looks like a hanging.” “It might better be a hangin’,” he retorted, pawing amongst his apothecary stores, from which he Occasionally set aside a package. “It’s smallpox! That’s what It is—in a camp of panicky miners ready to bolt on the first whiff. Smallpox—fourteen-day-stage, and a pest house harboring the d d case. Do you understand? Smallpox!” Then with a toss of the head and one of those sudden turns upon his auditor which characterized all his intense utterances, he growled: “Coine along now, we’ve got to move that case out of camp before dawn or, well, you’ll see the company’s boat in the hands of mutinous miners, and its creditors dividin’ its assets in bankruptcy, and me a-goin’ to the coop for violatin’ the law.” We skulked along the beach as far as possible from the glare of the smelter. Black buzzards, sheltering in a wood pile, chattered raucously. The doctor whispered: “Our plan, remember. If the buck shows fight, do your part; I’ll do mine. We’ll avoid a rough-and-tumble as long as possible. Hear that sea racing past the inlet! Gad! what a night focr I women and children! This bread and I bacon won’t be needed, I’m believin’. I

. '^S^Ss^ ,l 7fS l %nW ATT SS

Poor brown devils —and yet—Stand by now, and If you feel yourself cavin’, bite that cigar like a mink trap and work away. Musn’t bungle this!” We remained for a moment in the shadow of the silent mill to rehearse the “job” about to be perpetrated. The Indian’s rudely-curtained hut window gleamed faintly red —a bleared eye in the dark void. We knocked. A menacing grunt and a shifting of moccasined feet within —nothing more hospitable. “The doctor, with food and medicine. Let me in.” We let ourselves into the hut before the Indian had arisen from the floor. The hut reeked with the foul stench peculiar to the domestic conditions of nomad Indians in this region. We lured the Indian outside. Our return from pestilence to the cold, sweet air of the Alaskan forest, intoxicated me. The doctor began menacingly: “Why didn’t you ride out on the morning tide? You said you would last night. You lied and, damn you, endangered the health of the whole camp. You’ve got twenty minutes to paddle off with your family or get shot.” The Indian replied sullenly as he moved toward the canoe upon the beach. “Squaw too sick. Hunt for meat all day. I go when the water sleeps—mebbe soonly.” He turned defiantly with clenched fists. “See here, Thlinkit, you’ve come into this camp with what miners would shoot you for. I’ve given you two. days to clear out at the risk of infecting our men and wrecking the mine for three months. I’ve got twenty men in the shadow of that mill ready to pound you Into pulp wheh my gun barks. You understan’? Now, we'll do this quietly or we’ll do it fighting’.” Saying which the doctor drew his pistol while I entered the hut and seized the Indian’s rifle. A long dory-like canoe was torn from the thin ice Into which it lay bedded. The brutal duty was under way. The squaw, whose disease had advanced to the stage of desslcatlon, opened her terrible eyes—eyes sunken and deliquescent. Go six miles down the coast; you’ll find fresh water and game a-plenty. Set your traps, and wait for the company’s launch to pass on her way out. Paddle out to meet her when you hear her whistle—four days hence. If you attempt to land within this inlet, I’ll sink your boat with a shot Now, then, heave off.” Having given his commands, the doctor joined in some mighty shoving and cussing to get the boat away; thei Indian’s reluctant paddle caught the water lazily, and the deeply laden craft of disease and death, and hatred of the white man, finally pointed her angular nose toward an unknown and a doubtful fate. I looked around for Doc, before setting the hut afire and butnlng the last vestige of the case had worried him. He was not asaore. He had vanished like a ghoul from the Indian’s dying fire. I helloed softly, and, gazing toward the disappearing boat —descried his squat figure with a paddle in the bow! Was it possible? Yes, there he was and from there he called to me this weird adieu: “Good night, old chap. We’ve done a d —n fine job; but I’m going to finish it alone. Send a canoe after me day after tomorrow, or pick me up when tho Mary' Ann puts out to sea. If I’m infected, Til hang my pink shirt high in a fir tree near the I beach, and don’t you come within a hundred feet of me. If I’m all right i’ll get aboard and see you off for

the states. I say—burn the Indian’s hut, sneak to my shack and lay low. Don’t explain anything. Those miners wouldn’t stay in camp a minute, and the health officer’d hang me for not reportin’. Thanks, old chap, thanks. It was a dirty job tor you.” I heard no more except the woolies gathering aloft and hitting the distant sea with a roar. The sturdy little Doc would “finish the job alone!” Firing the hut from the inside; I sneaked through the the doctor’s shack. It so happened (as it always happens) that on the day after my gruesome job with Dr. Dickson, one of the | visiting eastern directors had a "tremenjus case of cramps,” as the superintendent impressively announced. “Now, where was that good-for-noth-ing, lying, scheming little Doc? Why, drunk abed, of course.” So, with this verdict, a collection of exasperated directors visited Dickson’s shack to rout him out The door unlocked, but the doctor was nowhere in camp. A meeting of the directors was called which resolved that it was dangerous to the camp to continue the employment of a man who was this, that and the other bad, Incompetent, unfaithful thing. So Doc was discharged on the spot, the while an invitation was prepared to another physician at Juneau to come and fill the exalted position. It was an innate sense of responsibility which impelled me to steal away on the third night after Dickson had gone to sea with his sick wards. Packing my light kit I bundled up what remained and left it labeled to follow me in the Mary Ann when the visiting directors returned to Ketchikan. My note to them did not create a favorable impression of my attentiveness to their distressed business. “Gentlemen: As I may serve you more by finding Dr. Dickson than by remaining in camp, .1 have left some of my duffle to accompany you on your voyage to Ketchikan. I am cruising down the bay to hunt for him and for—bears. While sailing, please look for my fire and a freshly-blazed spruce on your port side. Kindly blow the launch whistle every two miles down. I ought to be from six to eight miles south on the west coast of Prince of Wales Island.” From the doctor’s shack I appropriated his rifle, a supply of ammunition and such medicines as I thought he might need; also I took some Scotch whisky, and brandy, pies and tobacco, a cot, tent and bedding, a stove, shotgun and shells, field glass, disinfectants, and all the provisions I could induce the cook to hand ouL One of the squaw’s babies had died on the day following their rough voyage from the mine. “And the other little varmint,” said Dickson softly, “will pass in his checks presently. The squaw’ll pull through if the buck don’t lay down this week. I’m goin’ to stand ,by the case a while longer if you say the boss isn’t cussln’ of me.” Early the next day we heard the siren of the Mary Ann. The launch was sailing down the bay. What I said to the rubicund and pudgy Doc, and just what he said to me as/he stood off twenty yards or so with (eyes of greater eloquence than his quaint tongue had ever known, doesn't matter here and now. Suffice it that I made my short but tangled way to the shore alone, stood under Doc’s pink shirt and near the fat new blaze and waited for the Mary Ann. Her pirate captain, seeing me waving a small birch signal-fashion, stopped his engine and drifted as close as he deemed prudent In a few moments the launch

lifeboat had taken me aboard and tc a cabin load of sleepy directors. They suddenly perked up with a chorus oi questions concerning “the irresponsible little scamp.” Yes, I had found him in the interior of the island. He had fallen in with some Indians, and, well, to be quite frank, he had asked me if the management and directors missed him, and if I would convey to them his apologies for leaving camp without the usual polite exchange of a goodbye and so forth. This twaddle exasperated them as 1 had intended. Their language of and concerning little Dickson shall have to be fumigated before public use cafi be made of it My violent and obsequious friend, Captain Furioso, and I were alone in the wheel house where he kept hia eyes on the company’s mail bag. As I espied the bag a villainous idea seized upon me. -“Have a smoke, Cap’n?” I offered i the bandit this bit of eastern bos- | pitality in my most persuasive I pianissimo. “Cap’n,” I began, leaning over his | smelly, little black and tan figure in j a confidential, warm-hearted manner. ! “Cap’n, 1 wrote Dr. Bumpus of Juneau a letter at the mine which I think I ought not to send him until I have seen some one in Seattle. Just let me open that bag a minute and I’ll withdraw it before I forget it in the rush at Ketchikan.” “Cert.” piped the captain, like the good, brave soul that he is, “here’s the key.” Then looking around fiercely at nothing, he half whispered: “Just turn the key in the wheelhouse door. Them gents from Massychewsitt might butt in afore ’you’ done it.” \ So, having “done it” in a jiffy, I felt assured that the temporary custody of Dr. Bumpus’ letter gave me control of the situation created by my all-too-precipitate friends, the directors. Just before we sailed from Ketchikan I enclosed the Bumpus letter in one of my own and addressed it back to the compaav's manager at the mine. These letters, therefore, went to the mine on the Mary Ann’s return trip and were in the manager’s hands on the fourth day following our departure from Ketchikan for Vancouver. This is what I wrote the manager, a man preposterously jealous of his official prerogative: “I beg to enclose the letter you addressed to Dr. Bumpus, pursuant to the direction of your board while I was in camp. In a fortnight Dd. Dickson will return and explain the Important service he has been rendering your compan?. “Inasmuch as my counsel and advice concerning your company has been the object of my examination of its properties and affairs, I suggest that nothing be said to apprise Dr. Dickson of the action of your board, nor of Its injustice to him. I should regard the doctor’s resignation from your staff, at this time, as a serious calamity. “Meantime, I am explaining the doctor’s absence to the directors while they arc ou their way to Vancouver." "Great little runt, that camp doctor" at th«j mine,” I soliloquized, as we finally debarked from the steamer and settled into a Pullman U*md for Seattle. “What’s that?” came a screeching and derisive chorus. “He’s a little beast, and if—” “Now, see here, gentlemen. I’ve determined to raise you to the lofty level of that little cut, between here and Seattle, or wreck this train in the attempt” So I told them of the heroism of this runt of the wilderness, and heard their snivels and saw their tears, their hedging and squirming and justifying and all that men do whose condtfct should bring regret and remorse. A month thereafter I received this assuring report: “Ketchikan, SS. Alaska. "Dear Mr. Bobs: "I’m well againfl btu badly pocked. Got away from the Cape as soon as I dared, and came here. The squaw pulled through, but her kiddies died. I envy them! The buck was almost decent while I was down. Still, I’ve a mind to lick him aplenty when I get strong again. “Two of the boys went to the mine, sneaked my things aboard the Mary Ann, and left my written respects for that manager. I shall have him also to beat up when he comes my way. There’s a rumor here that he has been discharged. “I’ve heard something of what you did for me with them entomological gents from the East. Much obliged. I’m going to hammer the blnacle oft th© one with the blue whiskers when he comes to Alaska again. Keep, this quiet, so I’ll have him to look forward to. “Much obliged for the port wine and other good things from New York. I’m going on the staff of the Nellie Mine next month. A big bunch of the boys at the Coplan Mine want to go with me, but I won’t do that sort of thing. “Yours in lodoform, "Doe.” Eleven days later I received the following telegram from the jubilant Dickson: “Met and mangled the manager today. He’s in hospital. I’m in jail. AH the boys satisfied. * "DQC.”

His = Woman-Proof - Heart JOANNA SINGLE (Copyright, 1911, by Associated Literary Press.)

Things began to happen in John Dorr’s hitherto quiet life. He had been head draughtsman ten years. Then, one June morning, Foster, the senior partner, called him to the inner Tauton, the other firm member, was grinning in his happy fashion. “You’re junior partner, Dorr, from this time forth! How do you like it?" Both older men rose and shook hands with him. Their friendliness was personal as well as in business. Dorr’s steady dark eyes lighted happily. He was probably thirtythree or four, of the slow-going but absolutely sure sort. He said nothing could be better. And then they discussed the financial side. An hour later he was leaving them, when Tauton stopped him jocularly. “We’ve only one fault to find with you, John. You’re not quite human with that woman-proof heart of yours! You seem never to even see a girl—and they all see you! Marry and be one of us, and have some real life in that little cottagfc of yours. Eh?” Dorr laughed, but his reserve was not broken. “Some marry, like you; some, like me—do not. I consider myself a successful bachelor.” He left them, not saying that love had, seemed to pass him by. He would marry, if ever, because love came and found him, not because other men married. The next astounding thing happened the next morning. Miss Gray, always at her desk early, was waiting for him. No one else was down yet, and she followed him to the inner room and clesed the door. In the year she had been in the office lhe had spoken to nobody there save on business, and alnqost never to Dprr. Now she laid a shining handful of jewelry on the desk before Mm, and stood, tall and slender, her face grave, her gray eyes serious. She spoke as if conferring rather than asking a favor. “Could I get—s2oo on these? I know nothing about pawning things.” Through his amazement he noted the depth of her clear eyes, the way her fine, smooth brown hair framed her face, the little lines at her temples,, She could not have been much under thirty. He examined the heavy old watch of fine gold, two diamond rings, one very good; a little sapphire, like a blue eye, and other trinkets. “I—should think so. Why not let is—the firm—advance the money?" She shook her head firmly. “That would not —do. And I need the money this afternoon, too. I thought you could tell me the best place to go.” “They are all —horrible places. Properly managed, some of them might lend it. I’ll —go for you. You couldn’t go to a place like that.” She turned as if the matter were zettled. “Thank you very much,” she §ai<j pleasantly and went back to her desk. He liked it that she did not explain, that if she had troubles she did not mention them, and that, whatever it was, she~ came to her own firm. But it set his thoughts upon her. How came she to have such expensive things? Why did she need money? She had a good salary, lived very quietly, and inexpensively—he knew where she boarded, and had a vague idea that all her people were dead. He thought he would —why, he would quietly keep her jewels and give her the money himself! Then he knew ehe would not accept it. He was driven to deceit. He pawned the watch only, as less personal, and when he gave her the envelope of bill merely showed her the ticket, explaining that he would keep it and get the things when the 60 days were But the matter disturbed him, and be wished it had not occurred. He furtively studied her. She was a lady. The quietness of her dress and manner, the perfection of her-toilet above all, her reserve, showed that. Her voice was cultivated, and her work showed the grasp and accuracy of a trained mind. As the hot June days passed he saw a t change in her. Miss Taylor, the bookkeeper, had gone on her vacation, and as business was light, Miss Gray did her work in her absence. Was it too much her? Dorr noted that for the first time since he had known her, she seemed worried. Her eyes were shadowed, her face pale. He spoke to her about It one Saturday noon after the others had left and were not to return. She was bending over a ledger. “Miss Gray, it’s pretty hot in here. You’d better not stay—let it go until Monday. Shall I work at it for an hour? I can.” She seemed to shrink from him, and protested. “No,” she said, “let me do it. I’m learning—you know I’m not an experienced bookkeeper —I’ll get along all right.” He left her, but he thought her manner strange. Was anything wrong? Surely not. But when Monday morning came, she was there at the office when he entered, bending over the ledger with a little frown on her brow. He walked straight up to her.

“Has anything gone wrong?” he asked in his steady, elder-brother manner. Her eyes met his almost gratefully, in a sort of resolve or relief. She asked a strange thing of him. “Could you stay and—help me a moment tonight—when the others are gone?” If it had been any one else, any one less perfectly dignified and impersonal, he would not have liked the request. Just then Foster entered, and Dorr knew something had happened to him—he had a hot desire to shield her from Foster’s look—from even the thought of any one else. It was a protective impulse that sprang up to defend her, and set a steal upon him. He never forgot how she looked at that moment. Her eyes were like flowers. That evening ehe went straight to the point. She put the books before him. “Please go over everything since Miss Taylor left,” she said. “She’ll be back in the morning, and I can’t find—all the money. I missed it the day after she left. It has frightened me to death.” He began to go over the figures with her, his voice reassuring. “Don’t worry—we'll find it. It often happens.” He went over all the figures once—then twice. “H-mm! Two hundred short —” He stopped suddenly and looked at her. ‘ "Was that why you got me to—” “Pawn my father’s things, and my mother’s. Yes. If it was my fault I was going to make it good. I was afraid I hadn’t watched when the safe wap open, or something—” He laughed outright. “I am sure it can't be Miss Taylor’s mistake—she is so accurate, and I wanted her to find everything all right.” Again he, laughed to see how little

MJ hllM IIH' 1 ’S. s J xs a

“Couldn’t I Get S2OO on These?” of a business woman she really was, how feminine, how helpless, and still how self-reliant she wasl The wave of protectiveness that had seized upon him that morning came back — and with it another thing—the knowledge that he loved this woman. It came like light, in’ an instant. And before he could steady his thought the door opened, and Nina Taylor, sunburned and happy, breezed in upon them. “Well, old business plodders—though you look more like plotters —• what Is up? Figuring how much I embezzled ?” She laughed. “Well,” answered Dorr, "for a fact, we can’t seem to locate S2OO that isn’t on the bank book, and ought to be. It’s been lost ever since you left?’ The girl came to lean over Sylvia’s shoulder, running a practiced eye over the books. Her face was serious, and she bit her lip. Then, with a whirl, she turned to the safe and opened it. She rummaged a moment, and brought out a little canvas bag. “There’s your cash —didn’t you hear me tell you to bank it the day I left. Miss Gray?" She laughed. “I was too late for the bank, you will remember.” Slyvia did remember, then. The younger girl snatched something she wanted from her desk and was gone again in a moment. John Dorr rose from his chair, andi looking at Sylvia Gray saw how pale, and tired she looked. All sense of! anything but her and her loneliness left him. He reached out for both her unresisting hands. “Sylvia," he said, “if only you couldi —love me Could you? love me —and marry me?” x There was still much of her old reserve and dignity left to her, Wut it was the dignity of yielding what one longs to give. She looked quietly at him. “Do you love me?” he insisted. “Oh," she answered, “I do! Os course I do!” "The Frankfort University.” The proposed creation of a university at Frankfort is receiving a great deal of discussion. The city authorities have proposed to combine a. number of scientific academies and institutions of learning already existing into a university. These institutions dispose of large endowment funds, and funds necessary to complete the university organization would, according to the proposal of the city council, be secured by voluntary contribution, in order to avoid increasing tax: burden. The proposal has been submitted to the Prussian government Considerable opposition to the “Frankfort university” has arisen, ly in smaller university towns, such' as Marburg and Giessen, which claim that students would be drawn away from the smaller colleges in this part of Germany by the creation of an important, well endowed seal of learning at Frankfort. *