was at variance with the spirit of its charter and the legislation which had placed it on a state footing. Mr. D. O. Calder was the principal, and in November, it was organized and conducted as a commercial college until March of 1867. The idea of a commercial college was in itself worthy, but it was nearly as far ahead of the times, as the Parent School had been. A commercial school was not then, a necessity; and while it gave young men a practical business education, implanted in some business habits, and fitted them for business positions, there was no demand for their knowledge when they had graduated; and their commercial education was of little value to them.

As education is a means to an end, and, as a young man in educating himself should do so with a view to making the knowledge he acquires of positive pecuniary value, he should choose that which, while being most agreeable to his talent and to his inclination, will place him in a position to do the greatest amount of good, and in which he can command the greatest return. Therefore, while the commercial college was

well attended and successfully managed, it could not be of very long life; the condition of the Territory would not justify it; and a large majority of its graduates were left just where they had been on their entrance, so far as the information they had acquired at the college, in any way assisted in securing for them employment that would be remunerative, when the time spent and the knowledge of which they had become possessed were considered. This became understood and a change was determined upon —a change that would finally place the institution where the Solons of the Provisional Government and the early Territorial Legislature had intended it should be placed.

Dr. John R. Park, a graduate of the University of New York, to-day the principal of the University and the foremost educator in the Territory, was called upon by the Board of Regents to assume the management of the institution, to revolutionize its method and to reorganize it on a plan as decidedly in contrast with the commercial college as the latter was with the plan to be gathered from the charter. R. W. Sloan.

DINING WITH A FRIEND.

THE first thing a boy does on entering a new school, after cutting his initials in his desk, is to form an everlasting bond of friendship with some other boy; and by the time the two have become joint proprietors in tops, chinies, agates and crystals, flints not included-they are ready to swear that no time or change in this life shall sever the covenant they have made.

These beautiful associations, however, though among the most touching common to our nature, are not destined to flourish undisturbed; a destroying hand, the ruthless authority of parents, often blights the plant of friendship in its growth, and effectually checks the bloom of budding affection; how frequently is the spectacle of a swim in the slough

frustrated, a game of one old cat circumvented, or a perusal of Mr. Munro's charming stories interdicted and forbidden, through the intervention of some obstacle, such as a lot to water, a wood pile to demolish, or a grove of plum trees to be stripped! with the alternative of a willow of your own cutting as the reward for disobedience. Alas! we have seen the most sacred feelings of boyhood trampled upon-its fondest engagements for "horn" and "woolley" alike disregarded, its innocent diversions of “tick tack" and "stretch a twine across the sidewalk" equally punished by that implacable exterminator of youthful joys known as Parental Authority!

We had just emerged from that obscurity which shrouds the life of every boy until he has put a dozen years be

hind him-in other words, we had just 1 entered our "teens"-when our soul became knit together with that of Jud Lovekin. We were both entered as pupils in Mrs. Cobb's department of the University, and we met for the first time on one of those interesting orthographic occasions, when the bad children remain after hours and write on a slate several hundred words of three syllables each, for the edification of their teacher. Our primal intimacy arose through a small commercial transaction, which took place between us-we giving him the loan of our words, after they had been accepted by the teacher, thereby saving him the trouble of writing any at all; for and in consideration of which he allowed us a controlling interest in a basso cow-bell. This bond of sympathy between us was strengthened by similar dealings on like occasions; and before a week had passed over our heads, we were sworn friends for life, as well as co-partners in seventytwo chinies, eight crystals, numberless commies, an agate, three tops, and a "secret place" in the bottom of his father's garden. For some time the fates seemed to glory in our friendship; we sat together at school, went swimming together during the arithmetic class, devoured Beadle and Munro's library together, under cover of a friendly geography, spelt untold polysyllables together after hours, lunched together-in fact, David and Jonathan, or Damon and Pythias, were distant connections compared to Jud Lovekin and ourself; until, one ill-starred day, he asked us to go home to dinner with him.

son

It was not without some misgivings that we entered the yard of Mr. Lovekin, Jud's father; though we had never seen the gentleman in question, yet we had heard him casually spoken of by the boys at school as a "tough customer," a "C of a sea cook," &c.-expressions which did not tend to increase our confidence. Vague fears as to our friends prerogative in the matter of inviting guests to share the family meal, also began to fill our mind, until we suppose something of our doubts was reflected in our face, for Jud, looking at us, exclaimed;

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"Y' aint ascairt, are ye? Pshaw! my mother knows your'n, and she's heard me talk of you a thousand times. Come on." And passing our arms over each other's shoulders in that fond manner known to boyhood alone, and slightly resembling the two-headed lady, we proceeded up the walk towards the house. Opening the front door without any hesitation, Jud disclosed the alarming spectacle of a young lady in the act of putting on a dress; as she had just reached that stage of the process, where a wild struggle is necessary to determine whether the head shall emerge from the chaos of drapery which envelops it, or remain forever veiled, she did not at first perceive our entrance; but when the head had come out triumphant, and its owner caught a glimpse of us, standing in some disorder viewing the scene, she uttered a wild little bark, or ejaculation, and vanished with a sound like the rushing of waters, into a side room. Noting our confused glance, our friend laughed and said, "It's only sis; never mind her; she ought to keep out of the parlor if she don't want to be caught dressin"." And taking us by the hand, he led the way into another room, where a table was spread, and a healthy-faced, kindlooking lady was bustling over a stove. "Oh, Jeddy," she said, "have you come? And who's this?"

"Billy, ma; Billy Willis, what I've told you about."

"And this is Marthy Willis's boy, is it," exclaimed the good woman, gazing on us with a retrospective air. "Well, well, who'd a believed it possible! Marthy and me was girls together in Winter Quarters. My, my, how times do change! And how is your motlrer?"

"Pretty well, I thank you, ma'm," murmured we, greatly cheered by these reminiscences on the lady's part.

"Let me see," she continued; "you must have been born at the time of the Move, wasn't you?”

"Yes, ma'm," we answered, "at Provo." "So you was, so you was," said Jud's mother; "and Jeddy is just two months older'n you. Well, well, what a peculiar thing time is to be sure."

This apostrophe was cut short by a sound of loud stamping outside the door, followed immediately by the entrance of a very large man, whose face looked as if he had just come off a hard run. Without any ado, he proceeded to take off, first his hat, then his coat, then his vest, then his collar, and I had just grasped the sides of my chair in an ecstasy of horror lest he intended disrobing altogether, when he dropped into a seat with a loud "Whew!" and began to fan himself violently with both hands.

"It seems to me," he gasped, "as if you got it as hot as you could here for me to eat dinner by; why don't you roast us all out and be done with it?"

"I suppose you know I can't get dinner without a fire, don't you?" retorted the lady; "a pretty hullobaloo we'd have if I tried it."

"Um!" replied Mr. Lovekin (a name, I began to fancy, which ill suited him). "Well, what about dinner, any way? Are we going to have any to-day?"

"Pretty likely," was his wife's rejoinder; "set up, its all ready. Set up, boys." These words directed the gentleman's attention to the fact of our presence.

"Hello," he exclaimed in very gruff tones, "who's this?"

There was a brief pause, as Jud glanced appealingly at his mother, in the hope that she would answer the inquiry; she was busy at the stove, however, and did not notice her son's endeavor to gain her attention.

"Billy," he at length replied.

Our heart sank as we saw this did not sufficiently enlighten Jud's father.

"Billy who?" he demanded, still more gruffly.

"Billy Willis, what goes to school with me," answered Jud.

"Oh," growled his sire; "you couldn't come home from school, I s'pose, could you, without bringing some boy with you? How am I to know what you're doing at school, or who you're associating with

"Oh, come, come," interrupted his wife, "for heaven's sake eat your dinner and let the boys eat theirs; do let's have a little peace once in a while."

The head of the house seemed disposed to dispute his wife's authority to break in on his discourse thus abruptly, and grumbled something continuously in an undertone, until the cabbage and potatoes were placed immediately before him, when he transferred his attention to those vegetables. We had not yet dared to lift our eyes from the tablecloth, and were sitting quite homesick and wretched, when Jud nudged us to direct our attention to the cabbage and potatoes, which his mother was just passing him. Helping himself generously, he handed the plate to us over the water pitcher, and we had just taken it in our hand at that elevated station, when we were startled by seeing Mr. Lovekin's head drop upon his chest, and hearing the words of grace fall suddenly from his lips; his action in commencing had been so sudden that we were unable to do anything but to hold the cabbage and potatoes aloft in silence, until such time as he had finished; and as the plate was a very large sized one, and amply loaded besides, we sincerely trusted that Mr. Lovekin was one of the short praying kind. It turned out to be as we had hoped. Like many others, our friend's father regulated his prayer according to the quality of his fare; and as the latter chanced to be uncommonly good to-day, he showed his appreciation of the blessing by hastening to get at it, rather than by using the time in returning thanks for it; so he steered straight for the amen in his gruffest tones, intensified into a growl, to produce an effect of solemnity, and looked up from his devotions just in time to see the cabbage and potatoes come down with rather a loud crash, and Jud and ourself exchange a faint giggle at the situation in which we had been placed.

"Juddediah," said Mr. Lovekin, in his awfulest tones, "if I ever catch you laughing again when I'm returning thanks, I'll thrash you within an inch of your life. Now mind that. And as for your friend," with a terrific emphasis upon the word, "I want him to understand that I don't care how he has been raised-you are in the habit of hearing a

blessin' at your meals. Now mind that, young gentleman!"

The smile, which had involuntarily played about our lips, froze instantaneously with this speech. There was a sickly silence for some moments, disturbed only by the noise which the head of. the house made in masticating; at length, weary of the pause, he again turned towards his unfortunate son:

"Well, sir, and where do you keep yourself lately?" much as if he had just ascertained where every one else passed his time, and the knowledge of his son's whereabouts was now the only thing necessary to complete his happi

ness.

"At school, pa," answered Jud.

"I doubt it. Well, there's no more school to-day, and I want to see those plum trees watered this afternoon. D'ye understand?"

"Oh, pa," whimpered my friend, "I only watered 'em yeste day, and I promised Billy I'd go up on the hill this afternoon, can't I?”

"Not much,"responded the irate father, "Billy can do without you one day, I s'pose; my boys stop home once in a while and work. I tell you what, when I was your age, there wasn't any fooling around for me; mighty little play my father gave me. Now, you water this lot to-day, and don't let me come home to-night without finding it done, or you'll know why!"

We exchanged a despairing glance with Jud. Visions of undisturbed segoes, waving in security for this day at least, flitted through our mind; and rendered, if possible, more miserable than before, we had thought nothing else could increase our dejection, when we were crushed altogether by seeing the young lady, whose struggles we had viewed on entering the house, come into the room and take her place at the table.

"Late as usual," was her father's greeting.

Without replying to this welcome, the young lady proceeded to a contemplation of the cabbage and potatoes, and becoming absorbed therein, the meal seemed in a fair way to go along without further

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interruption. Delusive thought! in an unguarded moment the young lady turned to her mother, and, in a laughing manner, whispered something in her ear. The mother's response was a laugh, too. This suspicion of gaiety grating upon the ear of Mr. Lovekin, he demanded, in irascible tones:

"Now, what's the matter?"

"Oh, nothing," replied his wife. Unwise woman! she did not cease laughing; and in my heart of hearts I knew the monster would not be appeased until he had extorted the secret of her mirth.

"Don't tell me," he exclaimed, pounding the table with his knife handle, "What are you laughing at?"

"Oh, well then, Mary was just telling me how the boys came in and caught her dressing; that's all."

We felt that this was a decisive moment; the head of the house dropped his knife and fork, and surveying his wife, with a look of the deepest astonishment, said:

"That's all, is it? My heavens! and you can laugh at a thing like that? You can see a strange boy sneaking around to watch your daughter dress, and actually encourage him by laughing? Things have come to a fine pass!"

"Oh, pa," interposed the young lady, "the boys weren't watching; they happened to come into the parlor where I was trying on my new grenadine, and—”

"In the parlor!" ejaculated her wrathful sire; "and that's where you dress, is it? Then you're as much to blame as any one! I actually believe you don't care whether you're seen dressing or not. In the parlor! A nice place to dress!"

The young lady spared him the pains of pursuing the subject, by rising from the table, kicking her chair over backwards, and vanishing with a very red face into another room, the door to which she closed after her with a tremendous bang. The indignant father looked at his wife as if she were alone responsible for the irreverent exit of her daughter. "I've a notion," he said reflectively, "to have her come back and shut that door decently. Disrespectful hussy!" He

might have carried this corrective idea into effect, had not his attention been diverted by the sound of a timid knock on the kitchen door.

"Come in!" he shouted. The door opened slowly, and disclosed a small, scared looking girl with a teacup in her hand. "The Perkinses after your flatirons again, I s'pose," he growled to his wife.

"Please ma'am, ma wants to know if you could lend her a teacupful of sugar till she can send down town?"

"Have they returned that scuttle of coal they owe us?" demanded Mr. Lovekin of his wife.

"Of course they have," returned she, as she filled the teacup from the sugar bowl and handed it to the child. "There, Nanny; don't spill it;" and the child vanished slowly, with a long, terrified look at the master of the premises.

"It's astonishing!" growled that gentleman, "it's astonishing to what extent my neighbors are getting to depend on me for their sugar, butter, coal, flour, wheelbarrows and everything else they need. I'd like to see one of them lending me anything."

Wrapped in the contemplation of his wrongs, the master of the house sat for some moments without further comment. Though our appetite had long since fled, we still preserved a sickly semblance of eating, and now began to trust that the end of the meal would be reached in safety; but our unfortunate friend was yet destined to receive the final straw to the load under which he was fast sinking.

Among his other failings, Jud numbered an excessive weakness for butter; it so chanced that this was also his father's vulnerable point; and it was to this fatal similarity of tastes that the catastrophe of the meal may be ascribed. Jud had taken the butter dish into his hand, and was transferring a generous slice to his own plate, while his father was impatiently scanning the table in quest of the very object which his son held; the irascible parent was just on the point of turning to his wife with a request that she would leave things on the

table until the meal was through, when his eye caught the whereabouts of the butter, a goodly portion of it just in the act of sliding on to his son's plate; he paused for a moment in extreme bitterness of spirit, and then suddenly taking the dish into his hands, he turned the remaining lump of butter into the plate of our friend, remarking ironically as he did so, "There, my son, I hope you're satisfied." This was too much; with a tremendous boo-hoo, Jud arose from the table and, oblivious for the time of the sacred claims of friendship, hurriedly left the room; his mother, with a look on her face, such as we hope never again to behold, followed her son; and we were left alone with the master of the house!

We have never been able to recall distinctly the occurrences immediately succeeding this moment; a vague idea fills our mind that it was followed by a temporary suspension of the faculties, inasmuch as all consciousness of ourself, of Mr. Lovekin, of the meal and all our surroundings were instantaneously absorbed and swallowed up by a scene from the Octoroon, which came swooping into full possession of our brain: there sat the familiar figures of Mr. McCloskey and the Indian, as they appear in the well known jungle scene; only the canebrakes were replaced here by dinner dishes and utensils of cookery; Mr. McCloskey was sliding slowly backward from a table, at the other side of which sat the Indian, fumbling a magnified caseknife with a deadly glare; Mr. McCloskey's hand gropes under his chair in search of his hat, with his eyes always fixed on those of the Indian opposite him, only leaving them occasionally to measure the distance to the kitchen door; he'rises slowly from his chair, with that mesmeric glare still following his motions, and puts his hands out mechanically for the wall behind him; with this guide he feels his way slowly towards the door, and with a soul full of suppressed horror, as he realizes that his nearing the entrance is the cue for the Indian's leap and great ripping act, he puts his hand upon the knob; the baneful glare still follows him, but Wahnotee is motionless as