Professor Trowbridge has analyzed our Cambridge gas, and, though many of us have failed to recognize the fact, has found its illuminating properties quite good. When Fresh Pond is examined in the same manner we hope, for the peace of those about us who are in the habit of drinking water (as some are), that the results will not be published. It is not enough that the famished Commoner, as he sits down to his Spartan repast, should have his senses of smell, taste, and hearing shocked by his food and "table-talk," but, as he raises the goblet to his lips, he must see myriads of animals swimming in the water. Thus is the fate of Tantalus added to the horrors of Commons. Some of us, who are water-drinkers, must be carrying around a small internal menagerie, or, rather, aquarium, by this time. But time hardens the Commoner to almost anything, and to some it may be amusing to watch the little creatures at play. If one of these persons is of an inventive turn of mind, he might have his name handed down to posterity as the inventor of some kind of minute fishing-tackle by which these sportive creatures could be caught. The fishing could be engaged in between courses (?), and might divert the minds of all from unpleasant contemplation.