Great Jove! And can these things be? The yard a lake of raging water, whose billows roll over the unprotected sidewalks, and never a glimmer of light at night to act as light-house on the vasty deep! This particular editor of the CRIMSON fell in three feet of water, and wandered off the main channel of the sidewalk into deeper gulfs twice last evening in voyaging from Holworthy to Weld. There was water everywhere, and nothing to guide him in it. The president is away, we know, but we must appeal to the pity and humanity of the residuary powers. Let us either have light, or raised sidewalks in the yard until the spring floods are over, or else do please, kind masters, give us gondolas.
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The Ninety-One Nine.
