BE sure always to be the last one entering a car; it is much better than crowding in to get a seat only to give it up to some lady who enters later, for you certainly have had enough experience to know that students are always expected to stand.

If you are fortunate enough to have a seat as often as once in ten times while riding in town, do buy a lottery-ticket at once, for you will surely be the winner. Although you may occasionally have a seat when going in, you certainly haven't the sang-froid to expect one on coming out. If you think of coming out directly after the theatre, you find nothing but $ 75 bonnets and opera hats bobbing around in the car, and to get a footing on the front platform is more than most men expect. In the eleven o'clock car, filled with proctors, "between the act" students, ladies who ride only to the railroad crossing, and gentlemen of color, you may once during your stay at Cambridge find a seat. I know a man while in College, who found a seat twice; you think I don't, but I do. In the half-past eleven car, the innocent prattle of the Freshmen may help to keep your temper from bursting out against this railroad monopoly, but it don't aid you in getting a seat. The twelve o'clock car is the real tough one, though; sometimes there is only standing room on top, but generally you can squeeze in. There is one thing attractive about this car, - the conductor often passes you by on account of the crowd, and thereby you get into the Union Railway for eight cents, which is most comforting. In the half-past twelve car you will find all the seats occupied by private tutors and now and then an unfortunate waitress sandwiched in between them. The car for real enjoyment, though, is the half-past one car. This is known as the "guff-car;" it is often chartered by private parties, who proceed at once to clear out those who have dared to take a seat before them. No reserved seats, but in order to get one you must roll down Cambridge street as far as Charles. This car is a great favorite with the "Port gents," Tommy "the pusher," and his gang, so a policeman often rides on the platform as far as the bridge to kindly assist the conductor. In this car "standees" cost ten cents, instead of eight, cash up, no trust. But for pure aesthetic minds the only car to enjoy life in is the half-past four. There you will find yourself surrounded by, and listening to, the conversation of "the litterateurs" of Boston, i. e., the type-setters on the morning papers, and as you look out across Back Bay and try to discover, between the rays of the rising sun and waning moon, where blue meets blue, you are so carried away by the beautiful view that you fall into oblivion which lasts until the conductor calls out, "Harvard Square." Some men have been speculating in Sarah Bernhardt tickets, but if the Union railway will only agree to reserve seats in their cars, more money will be made by speculation in those tickets, although it is rumored that the company are debating about taking out all the seats to make more standing room.