would lead to competition and criticism. But as to competition, if it is carried on in the proper spirit nothing is more desirable; and as to the critical faculty, it is not wholly undeveloped within our midst, even now. The present system has its merits, without doubt, and may accomplish the same ends as a system in which a definite knowledge of marks is the predominant feature; but the former seems to me very much slower and attended with far more waste energy than the latter. The failure or success of this last would depend to some extent, I suppose, upon the temperament of the majority of the students, upon whether a knowledge of marks acted as a favorable stimulus to their work; but beyond that, I should like to see the system tried, on the principle that in the case of anything definite enough to be estimated at all, knowledge is always more desirable than ignorance.

"My Saviour Lord, were I to die,
Should I now find Thee near?"
There came no light and no reply,
And my heart shrank for fear.

"My Lord, I can not let Thee go," In sorrow then I said,

"Who for my sins, 'mid shame and woe, Seven times Thy blood didst shed!

"By those last roseate drops, I pray,
Let not Thy mercy fail!"
Then to my heart did something say,
"Go, seek the Holy Grail!"

My restless heart with joy uprose,
And fared forth on the wild;
Welcome were wind and drifting snows;
Had not the Master smiled?

For many a day we wandered on,

My heart and I, in hope;

And many a night, when light was gone,

All undismayed would grope.

But never a voice and never a form

Unto our wandering came,

And the cold white whirl of the shifting storm

Was evermore the same.

""Twas but Hell's mockery," then I sighed, "That urged us on our way!"

Yet smote upon my breast and cried, "I trust, although He slay!"

Weary to death, upon the ground
I sank, and could no more.
The Holy Grail I had not found,
And all was as before.

"I was not worthy, Lord, of Thee

Who yet art still my All;

My Lord, Thou hast done righteously

That Thou hast let me fall."

There came a brightness through the night,

A glory through the snow,

A radiance strange, that human sight

Hath not the power to know.

I bowed myself; I hid my eyes;

I could not speak for fear.

There came a Voice out of the skies,-
And yet that Voice was near,—

"Lo, all the sorrow thou dost bring

Ascendeth up above;

The Lord hath seen thy wandering,
The Lord hath known thy love.

"And for that thou hast craved to see
That cup, that stayed the flood,

The holy tide on Calvary

Of water and of blood,

"And for that thou through all these years

Of pain the Faith hast kept,

Think not He hath not seen thy tears,-
The Lord with thee hath wept.

"Ah, far more blest art thou than all
On whom He hath but smiled!
Fear not; it is thy Master's call,—
'Lift up thy heart, my child!'

"Yea, lift it up, that pain and woe
Did to a chalice hew;

Into thy heart, upholden so,

His tears shall fall like dew;

"And blood is mingled with the tears,

And nations cry, 'All hail!'

Heart, hast thou doubts? Heart, hast thou fears?

Thou art the Holy Grail!"

ELLEN GRAY BARBOUR.

THE HOUSE OF SHOVELS

If Jimmie Tyler and Shovels had not both attached themselves so firmly to Roberta Vibert, this story would never have come to be written; but they had. Jimmie was what girls call a man, meaning a young man of pleasing exterior and sufficiently entertaining interior; to judge, that is, from that portion of his inner nature revealed in ordinary social inter

course. Shovels was not quite a dog.

He was a cur, and a

small, half-grown, mangy yellow cur at that.

Shovels had been wont to spend his days in hanging around the railroad station among the cab drivers; but one day Roberta stopped to order a carriage to be sent up next morning, and Shovels saw her. He sat down and looked at her while she gave her order to the cab driver. Certainly she was the prettier of the two. Perhaps life held better things than cabmen. Shovels winked a pink eyelid, rose, walked over, and began to sniff feebly at Roberta's skirt, while he moved up and down. what looked like a very much worn and soiled, dun-colored ostrich tip. Roberta's brown eyes looked down at him and Roberta's voice exclaimed, "Oh, you poor little thing!" Roberta stooped over him, and he felt her hand on his mangy back. He pumped the downtrodden ostrich tip harder. Then she turned to go. Shovels watched her another minute, winked the pink eyelid again, and followed.

About a month before, Jimmie Tyler had met Roberta at a whist party, whither he had grumblingly gone to waste an evening playing whist "with girls." After it was over, he had set Shovels the example of going home with Roberta. Then he had returned to his own home, to devote himself to the pursuit which is the nineteenth century equivalent of Benedict's "brushing his hat of a morning"; to wit, parting his hair with extreme nicety every evening, influenced by a half-conscious conviction that the chances were as nine to ten that Roberta would see that part.

At the end of the first week, Jimmie had called on Roberta twice, had discovered that she adored Richard Harding Davis, that she detested Kipling, that she thought Cyrano de Bergerac the noblest effort of the modern drama, that she didn't care for the German Opera or tennis, but was "perfectly daffy on golf." At the end of the second week, Jimmie had called six times and taken Roberta out twice. He had found out that she preferred violets to roses, that chocolate peppermints were her favorites in the line of confectionery, that she danced well, that she thought Julia Marlowe affected, that she always wore pretty clothes and carried dainty lace handkerchiefs, and that her hair curled naturally.

With the end of the third week, Jimmie had become confirmed in a habit of dropping into a certain chair on the Vibert

veranda on every evening when he did not take Roberta somewhere else, and remaining a fixture there until some more or less advanced hour. Not content with this, he had taken Roberta up to the golf links on Saturday afternoon. He had discovered that his golf was about equal to hers, he having played only twice before; also that she did not like snakes. But this, he reflected, he might have guessed any way.

At the end of the fourth week, he was introduced to Shovels, who, having once followed Roberta home, had refused to leave at any hour, however late. Jimmie and Shovels looked at each other. Both sniffed disdainfully, and Shovels retreated to sneeze pitifully under the shelter of Roberta's skirts.

"Poor little thing!" said Roberta, stroking Shovels' mangy back with a little brown hand. "He was so sick I couldn't help feeling sorry for him, and now he is so trustful I am beginning to love him. Just see how he comes and snuggles up; isn't it fairly touching?"

Jimmie looked on with gloomy envy for a minute. Then he made a noble effort to stifle his contempt for a dog without a pedigree.

"Well," he said slowly, "he certainly isn't pretty to look at, but I reckon there are plenty of good points about him," and he held out his hand to Shovels.

Shovels looked around Roberta's skirts, sniffed again, and winked the pink eyelid. Jimmie drew back his hand.

From that day, Jimmie felt that he had a rival in Roberta's good graces. When he dropped into his usual chair on the Vibert veranda, Shovels was always opposite him, nestled in the shadow of Roberta's skirt. And Roberta's affection for him seemed to increase daily. This was the first discovery concerning Roberta's likes and dislikes which had given Jimmie serious trouble. Her talk was now chiefly of the time she had spent during the day in washing, combing, and feeding the small forlornity, with requests for advice as to lotions to be poured over his mangy back or syrups to strengthen his weak throat. Jimmie smothered his feelings outwardly, but inwardly indulged them for another week. Then it struck him as ridiculous that he should allow himself to become jealous of a dog, and of such a pitiful little cur as Shovels at that. He resolved to like Shovels, for Roberta's sake and because, as before said, it was beneath his dignity to hate him; and he renewed his