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would scan the neighboring houses, you would see the students sitting upon the verandas or porches enjoying the pleasant breezes of the parting day. Twilight lasts until six-thirty, and at that hour we all return to our desks and study the rest of the evening.

This digression is the description of the ideal day when all the atmospheric

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Stanford,

Feb. 28, 97.

My dearest Mamma:

Well, another week has rolled around, and I am again put to the pleasant task of writing home. All I can think about now is the beautiful weather. It is the sole topic of conversation at the table, the only comment of the habitues of the campus, and the