One of the most interesting walks in the vicinity of Cambridge, is the walk to Tufts College. Although Tufts is our nearest neighbor, it receives far less attention from us than many other colleges which are more widely separated from us. The college buildings are situated upon "a terminal moraine" as the proud man of Tufts never neglects an opportunity of telling his amazed visitor. The buildings are modern and very convenient, and were it not for their exposed situation during the winter, though this is undoubtedly partially compensated for by their very pleasant situation during the warmer months, the dormitories of Tufts would stand as models for those of larger colleges. The appearance of the college as the visitor approaches it is very imposing. When the party of which I was one visited College Hill, the snow on the hill gave it a very pleasing appearance. This modern acropolis rises sheer from the plain which surrounds it, and overlooks Cambridge and Somerville. We climbed the steep pathway to the Chapel, but on reaching the top of the hill were met by two men in athletic dress running at the top of their speed, and followed by a little man in whiskers who was crying "Hou, Hou!" A little further on we came to the Museum. The Museum is a little abstract. That is, it is rather a proposal than a fact. P. T. Barnum gave $50,000 to found a Museum, and offered to stock it with various creatures that creep, and more that crawl. It is even rumored that Jumbo is to find his last rest within the classic shades of the "terminal morraine." Tufts has not indulged in the luxury of an "Annex," but it has a pond. And it has a clay pit where the crew can practice throwing stones. But the unique character of Tufts is shown in the students and their societies. Every man in the college is a society man, or is being solicited to join some society. It is either Alpha Omega or Omega Alpha. O. A. does not know A. O. and to be a non society man is to be wholly unknown.

We entered our friend's room. Magnificent! Hanging Chandelebra, statuary, portieres, pictures, (all society), etc., etc.; but the same old-! Our friend was playing cards. His opponent holding a full hand, wanted to finish the game. But our call effectually ended the game, and so we were invited to glance at Tufts. We were drawn to the window, and bade to glance toward Cambridge. The view was very fine, but was soon obstructed by the re-appearance of our athletic friends. We were surprised at the smile of pride that covered the face of our friend as he cried, "Ah, the Eleven!" He told us that the foot-ball interests of Tufts were "screaming," as he said, and that they bade fair to swallow up the other sports in the same manner as they had been themselves swallowed at our own college. Our friend spoke of the curriculum of Tufts as excellent, and the teaching thorough. He did not say, however, that the students ate in the chapel or that some of the professors roomed in the gymnasium. He felt sorry for us that we were not in Tufts, and pointed out the excellencies of his Alma Mater, and we felt that if we were not sons of the Crimson we would be sons of Tufts. We had many pleasant experiences, by no means the least of which was the experience that everyone knew, not Smith of '86, but Ed. We asked after another Tufts friend. Our host stepped to the door and cried up the stairs for some one to tell Sam to come down. The students are on close terms with the professors, and are very intimate with each other. We were shown the "head grind," "the strongest man in college," the man who boarded himself on fifty cents a week, the chemical labratory, the "Quad," the various objects of interest that crowd upon the visitor at Tufts, and finally left with an impression that Tufts College is the largest institution "that ever lived in the tide of time."