ENPages
[bold drawn letters made out of matches]A SPENT MATCH [bold]
On a poem intent on a match that is spent I twangle the chords of my lyre, It had lived, it had died, it had glowed in its price, Now it's thrown away into the fire. [drawn line] Alack and alack for the match head is black, Though brimstone and sulphur before It had heat, it had light, it had prospects in sight Now it's cast aside dead on the floor. [drawn line] It heated the trip, it lighted the pipe, The candle, the gas and cigar, In tray or on floor it's an awful eyesore Good-night matchless match, tra-la-la. [drawn line]
[image - stylized students LOOKING BACKWARD]
I seemed to hear a distant murmur of voices. Gradually they appeared nearer. "She will soon be wholly conscious now," I heard someone say. Slowly it dawned upon my awakening senses that I had taken a course of treatment with Dr. Hodge for insomnia. He had given me a new drug recently obtained from India. Apparently I had enjoyed a good long sleep at last.
Looking about I was surprised to find myself in what resembled a hospital ward. There were present a number of professional looking men and nurses gazing at me with a good deal of in-
terest. Then Dr. Hodge, with the appearance of a man who felt very much relieved, came to me and asked how long I thought I had slept. I replied that I felt as if I had slept a week. "You have slept just ten years, eight months and twenty-seven days," the doctor said. "That drug has had most wonderful anaesthetic effect. Sorry I gave you a little too much. You have been a wonder to the scientific world." Most remarkable case ever known." I then learned that they had cared for and nourished me in St. Joseph's Hospital all those years at the expense of the Medical Association.
When I grew strong and some of the stiffness left my limbs, I decided to go over to the Western University. The institution had grown to such proportions
that I hardly recognized the old grounds. On the corner where the Bishop's Palace used to stand I observed a large building. They told me it was the Medical School. Then over on the old Beecher property I saw the new Arts building in which there were two thousand students attending. The Huron College students occupied all the old building except Professor Burgesses quarters for which I learned he holds a life lease. A department of Civil Engineering and an Applied Science building completed the campus. Wandering down the avenue I entered Huron College. Here I saw a motley crowd of unfledged theologs with about the same unpromising appearance as the boys of former days. Every face was strange to
me but presently, I saw a lady come tripping down the hall with a swing about her that I knew of old. It was a '05 graduate, Miss Jean Dearness She welcomed me with the same old time kiss and embrace but said that I was making a little mistake in calling her Miss Dearness as she was the wife of one of the college professors. She took me into the Faculty Residence to have a chat with one of the old '07 girls whom she said was on the faculty, teaching Moderns. Who do you suppose it was? None other than Florence Somerville! We sat down and had a long talk together for you know we were great chums in the '07 class. I asked her all about the boys and girls of those days.