were scaling an arduous but fascinating intellectual height. Having
reached the summit, you stop an instant on the landing, partly for
breathing purposes, but more especially to exult a moment on the
height of triumph.

The four-storied college at the end of Prince George Street--regal
Annapolis would not be content with a street of less than royal
dignity--looks down with pleased approval on its wide expanse of green
campus, for that stretch of ground has a history that makes it worthy
of the noble building which it supports. It spread its greenery to the
view of those window-eyes decades before the Revolution, and when that
fiery torch flamed upon the country's record the college green
furnished a camping place for the freedom-loving Frenchmen who came
over the sea to help set our stars permanently into the blue of our
national sky. In 1812 American troops pitched their tents on the
famous campus, and under the waving green of its summer grasses and
the white canopy of its winter snows men who died for their country's
honor lie in their long sleep.

On the grounds east of the college buildings stands the Tulip Tree
which sheltered the first settlers of Annapolis in 1649, and may have
hidden away in the memory-cells of its stanch old heart reminiscences
of a time when a bluff old Latin sailor, with more ambition in his
soul than geography in his head, unwittingly blundered onto a New
World. Whatever may be its recollections, it has sturdily weathered
the storms of centuries, surviving the tempests hurled against it by
Nature and the poetry launched upon it by Man. It has been known by
the name of the "Treaty Tree," from a tradition that in the shade of
its branches the treaty with the Susquehannoghs was signed in 1652. In
1825 General La Fayette was entertained under its spreading boughs,