BLACK MAJESTY

The comparative emptiness of the Yard on May mornings of these last two years has set all the more into relief the garb of contemporary Seniors. The gowns of the past are still, evidently, purchased; some moved, sparse sombre dots, in the early hours of the first week of May; they massed together before Widener in one grand display for the benefit of Notman's and the Album: then--oblivion. The almost-alumnus is no more to be distinguished from the rest of Harvard than is the sweaterless and letterless athlete.

Other times, other customs is doubtless the excuse. This tradition takes its place along with the ten thousands that the Divisional and the Reading Period have slain. Some Seniors have survived the first, and have gone; some are suffering the second, and stay; in neither case are there classes to attend, and so, reasons the Senior, there is no need of wearing his regalia. Yet this custom is none of the puerile collegiate tricks to which Harvard long since turned thumbs down; it is a dignified and respected tradition, with a long tale of years behind it. The University, becoming even more amorphous, gives up for the present the claim that a class grows unified in its last year. But there is still time for the Seniors to overcome their reticence or indifference. The June festivities will probably not be barren of caps and gowns; it is only unfortunate that six weeks are required to bring them for the second time out of concealment.