CLASS-DAY coming once again brings up memories of all other Class-Days, and affords us an excellent opportunity for trite remarks. But why should we pretend that we gave information or that we said a brilliant thing, by proclaiming that another class was about to leave these "classic shades"; that their virtues were manifold and their faults but specks? Certainly this is true, for it has all been said, over and over again, of preceding classes. We will therefore not moralize upon either the class or the day, but we will earnestly hope and devotedly pray that the day itself will not be very warm; that the marshals will be as elegant in their appearance as the combined efforts of art and nature can make them; that the oration will prove all that can possibly be desired; that the poem will be entirely satisfactory; that the spreads will not be overcrowded; that the evening will be fine; and, finally, that the fair creatures who may honor the occasion by their presence, as they gather their tattered trains about them and depart to their several homes when the lanterns begin to fall and the lights go out, will all sweetly declare that they "never had such a nice time in their lives."