Today is the Gentleman's Easter. A month ago his sisters and his cousins and his aunts blossomed forth in the newest creations of millinery. Two weeks later, solemn Seniors donned the strange headgear known unaccountably as mortar-boards, and appeared in the Yard with a dignity that was the envy of underclassmen. Today more man is to have his turn, and he prays for the sunshine as eagerly as a Senior on the day of the Picnic. For today, by common consent and the decree of Harvard Square Haberdashery, Inc., is Straw-Hat Day.

A New England spring is as uncertain as the comings-out of Lampy and no arbitrary date can be set in advance for the first appearance of "boaters". Man's conventions are unaccountable; a straw hat in a sea of felts, though the day be 90 in the shade, seems a de trop us that full dress suit at the informal dinner which tortures the gentleman in the etiquette advertisements. Here in Cambridge disregard for conventional toggery is reputed more conventional that convention itself. And some brave straws have already appeared; in fact, "the President has pointed the way with his Panama". It is a reasonable prophecy that only a few of the old felt hats will be seen on the street today--these curious, shapeless things that so touched the heart of the Editor of the Alumni Bulletin. Those few remain as silent testimony to the struggle going on within their owners, whether to buy a Cable Edge Sennit--possible Flat Foot Wearo--or a Full Sennit completely equipped. As soon as they can overcome their indecision, they too, will join the Gentleman's Easter Parade.