To most people today is simply May Day, but in the calendar of the class of 1914, it is marked in red letters, Cap and Gown Day. Today the Senior at a great saving in laundry bills, dons for the first time his regalia of dignified black, which will distinguish him from lesser folk. He gets it to set right on his shoulders, maneouvers the tassel till it does not dangle in his eye but caressingly tickles him just in front of the left ear, and thus arrayed in the scholastic armor, struts or strides proudly across the green but erupted Yard. He is a Senior--he needs no button nor mustache to proclaim that fact now. He is a Senior--let the world look and admire.

In sooth, it is the beginning of the end. The cap and gown garb is a sort of cocoon from which the Senior will emerge as a very humble moth in June. But the cocoon days are happy ones, and rightly. The soberness of the robe signifies no corresponding gloom in the class; Nineteen-fourteen has not assumed black to mark its declining days. On the contrary, Nineteen-fourteen is just beginning to live. What with Junkets and picnics, and bright days and gay nights, cap and gown time will pass quickly and merrily. So, paraphrasing the advice given to the obullient and pugnacious youth of the University not long since, the CRIMSON bids the Seniors, "Keep your Cap and Gown on!"