THE DAY UNCHANGING

Today the program for Class Day is officially announced, and in almost every respect it is the same program that was followed last year, and the year before, and through the years before that. For such rigid adherence to a very beautiful and a very impressive custom Harvard should be grateful indeed.

It is difficult to say just how much the average undergraduate appreciates Class Day. The question is too hopelessly linked with sentiment to admit a free discussion. Yet even to the most cynical and the most indifferent Seniors it is a picturesque and attractive occasion.

Those who graduate from a college as large as Harvard have little of tangible importance to remember it by. They recall a Freshman Jubilee, a Junior Promenade, and a football game or two, but they naturally feel the need of a more unusual and a more culminating event. Class Day with its playing fountains, its bright streamers, and its swinging lanterns, is just such an occasion. The Yard on that day becomes not a place of routine but of memories, and Soldiers Field turns from its stately athletic past to bloom with banners and class colors.

In a far sadder way class Day is the final gathering of the Senior class before it ceases to exist as an undergraduate body. As such it is the final culmination of all that Harvard has meant through four long years.