also be adorned with tennis racquets, golf sticks, flags, and heaps of comfortable looking cushions worked in queer designs, a great favourite being the top on which is traced the names of all the students for the year. The best of all is that the mistresses of these charming apartments dispense such a lavish hospitality that no one has cause to complain of that cramped feeling which is apt to result from living in one room. The care of sick or delicate pupils is as motherly as it is skilful. A teacher makes constant rounds through the apartments, advises, and summons medical aid if necessary, while a nurse is constantly employed in the building. But, fortunately, the surroundings are so healthful, and the outdoor exercises so varied, that there are few cases of serious illness among students.

From the fact that there are ninety-eight acres of land in connec

tion with the institution, it is not surprising that outdoor sports are a special feature of college life. Excellent opportunity for tennis, basket-ball, and croquet playing is afforded on the extensive lawn in front of the building, and some one is always kind enough to teach new students who care to learn. Twice a year Whitby Tennis Team contend for the "trophy" with the young ladies of Victoria University. The trophy is now in the possession of the Ontario Ladies' College.

All the haunts in and about the town are familiar to those who are fond of walking; while the lake shore is the scene of many a picnic, students sometimes being allowed to take their lunch along and play gipsy for the day. But of all merry revels Apple Day is said to be the gayest. In the orchard belonging to the college there ripens, when the year is good, a great variety of tempting fruit, to which, in due

season, the students are allowed access. Apple Day comes just before the picking of the late winter varieties, and the girls one and all are let loose among the trees with permission to carry off as much booty as they can. One runs hither with a pillow-case, another darting thither in search of choicer fruit carries a laundry-bag, in another corner one sees a cloak spread upon the grass with its four knotted corners humbly doing duty as a receptacle. What care these aggressive young Amazons so long as they bear off a goodly quantity of their shiny, red-cheeked, unresisting captives?

But winter comes with its frost and cold. The orchard is a wilderness of snow; the lawns are buried in ice. But Whitby College girls laugh at winter, conquer it, and compel it to contribute to, instead of detract from, their enjoyments. Naturally the preference is given to

amusements that may be carried on inside.

The musically inclined organize a musical club, the art students form an art club, the aim of which is to interest the members in the lives and works of master painters. The literary society has also a large attendance; at their first meeting is chosen the editorial staff of the "Vox," a highly amusing and entertaining little journal published monthly throughout the collegiate year, and expressing very definitely the spirit of college life. At the close of the year, the juniors give a supper to the seniors, at which toasts are given, and the class prophecy and class history are read. The annual drive and visit to the photograph gallery results in the class picture.

Each succeeding class of graduates tries to leave its distinctive mark about the building. One year saw the planting of a flourishing

study tables, and when piano notes, above, below, and everywhere, prove the number of aspiring musicians.

The courses of study are very broad in their scope, and the foundation for future culture is laid firm and deep. It is just in this respect that a resident college excels a dayschool. Instead of being obliged to cram a brain full of facts in view of an impending examination, these students are acquiring gradually, pleasantly and thoroughly a training that fits them for any sphere into which womanhood is likely to be called. They are not only told how things ought to be done; they do them. They are not only informed how cultured people should live; they live daily under the most refining influences. They are constantly in touch with the best people. They hear the orators and musicians of the large cities.

Above all they are constantly under a wholesome religious influence. It is superfluous to add that the Bible is taught as broadly as other branches, no attempt being made to interfere with a student's creed or denominational beliefs. Two interesting events mark Sunday; one is the sight of over one hundred young ladies walking by twos from college to church.

The

other is the receiving by every student of a slice of bread and butter after the regular supper, which is early on Sundays. The sight of a hundred and twenty girls scurrying

away to their rooms with their prize is said to never lose its interest.

"All things must die," says Tennyson; and nothing can be more apparent than that mournful truth. College days, sharing the mortality of things earthly, must one by one glide into the misty past. Students must part, and relentless trains and boats, after their flinty manner the world over, must carry long-knitted friends to remote distances. "Nothing will die," exclaims the poet exultantly a moment later, and again, and this time gladly, we admit the force of the truism. Above all, influences cannot die. They follow us like invisible guardians to the end. And here is seen the most widespread result of the work of the Ontario Ladies' College. Can a student from some remote settlement ever go back to her former life without exerting a compelling influence in her community? Can a soul filled with the love of the beautiful live under the inspiration of the great masters, and then relapse into ignorant indifference? Can hundreds of healthy, cultured, thoughtful young women inhabit the borders of our land without raising its whole moral tone? In the near future when our Canadian literature and art shall have come into their own, a finger will point to the hoary pile that crowns the loftiest eminence of Whitby Town, and its voice will say, "Canada has no

nobler mother of education than this."