The return of so many of the old boys, and the advent of the new boys, gives to the Square somewhat of the same appearance that it has had for ten generations of college classes.
The keenness of the autumn is in the air. The haberdashers are showing their new suitings. The perennial college boys are going in to the musical comedy with the same abandon of cheerful laughter, of jingling silver, and of bright fall neckties. It might be that nothing is lacking, that the football games and the hockey games and the baseball games should make out the year. The old order changes, but it changes exceeding hard.
Perhaps the only difference to one who passes by is the mingling of men in uniform with the men in civilian motley. They are back again for a day or a week, meeting the old friends, experiencing the old excitement, knowing the high pleasure of well remembered things. There are those among them who, recalling the past, could wish that the past might never change.
The time of the renewal of friendships is at hand. There are friendships which will not be renewed. The men in uniform mark the time which has gone, and being gone, may not return.
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