"The famous fiddlestick," returned the other. "He's no more a Highness, and a Prince, and a general than you are yourself. He's a rascally, drunken old bootmaker, who disgraces the name of Petroff." With the angry woman's shrill laughter ringing in his ears the unhappy jeweller staggered from the room and rushed down the stairs. He could think of nothing but the loss he had just sustained. By reporting the matter to the police at once there was a bare chance that some of the property might yet be recovered. The superintendent of police, however, to whom he poured out his story, could not offer him much encouragement. It was clear that he had been made the victim of a singularly audacious robbery. The only thing that the authorities could do was to arrest Petroff as an accomplice. As, however, there was no evidence to connect him with the theft, he was, after a week's enforced sobriety, permitted to return to his wife. This was comforting for Petroff, perhaps, but it was anything but pleasant for the hapless Mr. Gorshine, who never saw his jewels or the two "adjutants" again. [Illustration: The Humours of a Rectorial Election. +By "One of the Electors."+] Some of the customs in vogue at American Universities are startling enough, but it comes as a surprise to learn that the authorities of an ancient Scottish foundation, aided and abetted by the police, countenance such extraordinary doings as are chronicled in this topical article. The writer describes the Glasgow University Rectorial Election of 1905, in which he took part as an official of one of the clubs concerned. On October 24th of this year the students of Glasgow University will choose for themselves a new Lord Rector. Already announcements have appeared in the Press that the candidates are Lord Curzon (Conservative), Mr. Lloyd George (Liberal), and Mr. Keir Hardie (Socialist). Triennially the public reads in some obscure corner in its newspapers that a Rectorial election is in progress in a Scotch University, that the fighting is fiercer than ever before, and that damage has been done amounting to hundreds of pounds. The reader, according to his viewpoint, either swiftly ejaculates a condemnation of such barbarous practices or grins as he detects what he takes to be newspaper exaggerations. The real facts behind all this the general public never learn; they never realize what a strange anachronism a Rectorial election is.