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Salvete Pilatnices !

Now it fell out upon a night early in the year 1904, Anno Domini, that ye University Improvement Society, having a mind o wax gladsome and gay (in mild unworldly fashion, be it understood) and wishing, moreover, to arrange the scheme of expounding mighty truths unto ye greene freshmen, did, for the aforesaid purpose, and with much cakes and good bumpers (of coffee) hold gentle junketings in ye College festal hall. Whereat, having repaired thither, both the improved and the unimproved, at the gentle ones' magnanimous invite, there appeared one certaine fayre student ——— yea, even she of much energy and racquet.

And it chanced, as the maiden sat in guileless parlance with the one and the other, that a scheme of mighty magnitude, equal in very sooth to that of ye gentle ones, did subtly steal within her wily cerebrum, and emanate therefrom.

For did it not seem full clear to the fayre one, on beholding the goodly assemblage of academic maidens therein collected, page 30 that the time was right ripe for the propaganda of new deities — to wit the cult of speedy Atalanta and glebe-hunting Artemis, in short ye beamish, anti-lotus-eating, vitidatious Club of ye Hurley Stick. And forthwith marshalling a goodly band, did the graceless maiden forsake the festal scene, the gentle parlance, and the soothing bumpers, and repair with them to the library, — yea, even to the library of much magnitude and luminous beauty. And having closed the portal, with phrases of great weightiness did she thereupon elocute the victims. "Let us rise," she cried, "and illume the Cimmerian darkness." "No pluck—no luck!" "Go where glory waits thee!" "Erin go bragh !" "Sweet Marie !" "Darling Nellie Gray" "Britons never, never will be —" "Ake ! Ake ! Ake !

And being mightily impressed — yea, even deeply afflicted with the purport of the fayre one's speech, — they rose thereat with exceeding gusto, and performing mystical mathematical feats, did, in consequence discover, that, of a surety, they numbered eight right noble pairs. Whereupon, up spake the fare one in the fullness of her elation, "Verily before tomorrow's sun be high in the heavens, we will hie us to the shop of Denton, that we may attire ourselves in a manner fitting for our glorious deeds that are to be."

And lo ! when the last day o the week was come, in such attire journeyed they forth—even to the far distant Campus Miramartius— thereon acquitted themselves with such becoming grace and flexibility, albeit with no lack of needful vehemence, that the hearts of the laggards were filled with an sudden and praiseworthy envy, and they did thereupon importune ye warlike pioneers with these subtle persuasions— "Inasmuch as ye have returned again across the mighty deep, even no fewer in number than ye that departed hence—yea, mirabile dictum, even as ye have returned pedibus legibusque so to speak, we would fain be of your worthy company. Admit us, we beseech ye, into this enchanting circle of impenetrable supremacy and spiritual delicacy, that we, even we, may get a graceful bend on."

Which words having been heard, there spread over the faces of the faithful, sixteen smiles of wonderful magnitude, and from the throats of the faithful there burbled sixteen gurgles of tulgacious joy, as with epithets of honeyed sweetness, the nine wavering ones were gathered into the aforesaid stated hereinbefore mentioned, fold.

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So much for the origin of the Ladies' Hockey Club. Though we can hardly, like the mushroom, lay claim to growing up in a single night, we certainly run the puffy tribe pretty close in putting twenty-five players on the field in two days. Moreover, despite our infancy, we are, I believe, able to lay the flattering unction to our souls of having the largest ladies' Hockey muster in the four Colleges. This is no slight achievement. On the contrary, it is a most desirable state of affairs. Universities are not braintwisting swot-shops. We want not only wealth of intellect, but wealth of spirit. And where can better education for the spirit come, than from this particular branch of our sport ? True, we have a flourishing Tennis Club, and right proud we are of its achievements, but no one can for a moment deny that such a club is merely an aggregate of units, each member of which is separately striving to cut the best figure he can. But in the winter pastime, the individual is nothing—side all. All our separate interests must be used and subordinated to the interests of the whole. In such training lies the real value of the Club. The practice o self-control and self-effacement—the generous unjealous service of another's fortune, becomes a growing part of every soul that entertains them, and strengthens with the years.

And if proof be wanting for such eulogistic assertions, is it not clearly shown in the generous, unselfish assistance which has, for the past few weeks been unfailingly shown us by the members of the older teams? We would therefore, brother Hockeyites, gladly seize the present opportunity of expressing our tenderest gratitude to those who, nobly foregoing the tongue's desire to sympathise with a stricken shin, yet smiled saint-like under a halo of circling sticks, and who, by weekly summing up our short-comings in manner refreshing and entertaining — (to others) have done much towards enabling us to appreciate the finer points of our salutary "diversion." Not that we lay claim to exhibiting the said points in any striking degree. Confession, it is said, is good for the soul, and it must be confessed that most of us still show a remarkably fine disregard for the petty restrictions of cut and dried rules; super-sensitive critics can still sweetly note that we do not always choose to let our originality be subservient to our duties on the line; aesthetic minds may be rudely jarred by the hue of our attire. But we are prepared to take meekly the exposition of our faults. If we are to believe wise saws, the course of true er—Hockey—never did run smooth. We don't deny it. Nor is a "modern instance" wanting. Have not our eyes already dimmed at the unhappy spectacle of a rival page 32 club being augmented from our own young and tender—alsa ! so tender—ranks? Like Dean Swift our "humour would have been irresistible if only it had been good humour" —but it wasn't. Still, as the probabilities seem to be in favour of our surviving the shock' tis as well, may be, to treat our loss (?) in optimistic vein—

"So, fill up the glasses with treacle and ink,
Or anything else that is pleasant to drink,
Mix sand with the cider and wool with the wine,
And drink to [the ladies] with ninety times nine."