IN anticipation of the fifteenth birthday of the Crimson a breakfast was given by the Board at the Hotel Brunswick. It was not much of a breakfast, but that was what it was called. It began at noon and lasted until midnight, and it was the privilege of many dignitaries to be present. At the left hand of the presiding officer sat President and Mrs. Hayes, and at his right hand were the members of the Boston press, headed by the Herald man. But without lingering upon the guests or the menu, let us pass at once to the after-breakfast part, - the intellectual feast.

At the close of the sumptuous repast the presiding officer rose with the assistance of his neighbors, and said, "Gentlemen, I give you as our first toast this evening, The Crimson. Long may she blush!"

This was considered inappropriate, inasmuch as the Crimson had never done anything to blush for; accordingly a new presiding officer was elected, and he who was deposed retired under the table in chagrin. The new President proposed the health of the newly elected Sophomore Board, and as none of them were considered able to reply to this toast, Mr. John G. Wh-tt-r was called upon, and read the following ode:-

THE SOPHOMORE.Blessings on thee, little man !

Sophomore, with cheek of tan,

With thy light-checked pantaloons,

And thy whistled opera-tunes.

With thy red lip, redder still,

Kissed by maids of Dana Hill.

O'er thy fair face broods immense

Harvard's proud indifference.

Faith, I love to see thee soar,

I was once a Sophomore.

Let the Senior strut and swell;