the great collections of the world. The arrangement seems well-nigh perfect for students or for sightseers. For in this central room where we now are, are what I may call types or specimens of all the "kingdoms," as we used to say, of animal life. This room alone would be an admirable museum for any college. Beasts, birds, fishes, insects, everything which has animal life, all are represented here. And all the large halls which radiate from this hall are given to the subdivisions which are here indexed, if I may say so. Thus, here is a lion, and in the room for beasts of the cat tribe, if that is now their name, we shall find another lion; and yet again, in the hall for African beasts we shall find another lion. But, for an allround view, we who are not specialists may well begin with the index room here. deed, indeed, we shall want more than a half hour. In Divide your time as you please, unknown friend whom I have been advising. I have 15612B been leading you as I should like to be led. In that avenue on which the museum opens you will like to look in on Divinity Hall, and on the charming library and curious museum adjoining it. Whatever else you leave out, you must go into the separate Museum of American Archæology, fortunate if you find Professor Putnam there, and if he can give you even a few minutes; and remember that we have left one museum unexplored in the college yard. You have also left, unseen as yet, what is left of the Sanders playground and the soldiers' field; and there is Longfellow's house, and Lowell's, where is to be Elmwood Park; and Mount Auburn; and, as I said, the observatory; and, best of all, perhaps, the botanical garden. Then you would like to see the Riverside printing house, and the old intrenchments in the Hovey gardens, and everything else in Cambridge; but I am afraid that all this means that you must buy one of the nice Cambridge guides at the admirable bookshops, or wait, perhaps, till Mrs. Ingham and Miss Ingham and I meet there again. So we will turn around and be thankful that there is so much for another visit. But no, dear Pauline, you shall not be disappointed. We will take our car higher up on Garden Street, and here is the statue of the first New England printer; and here is what papa promised you the old elm beneath which Washington's commission was read, and where he took command of the army. And to-night you shall sing every line of "Father 'n' I went down to Camp." Here was the camp. Some of the soldiers were in old Massachusetts, which we saw just now. As you ride in, Mr. Holworthy ought to be able to show some of the earthworks. And here is the dear old song which you shall sing to-night to the tune of Yankee Doodle. It was written by Edward Bangs: Father and I went down to camp Along with Captain Gooding, |