Harvard may have made hippy-history yesterday as thousands flocked to the sunny Charles -- just to Be.

There are (of course) good Be-Ins and (regretably) bad Be-Ins. This was a good one -- it just seemed to work. As you walked through the crowd, everybody had his own particular bag. There was George dribbling through his clarinet; next to him Sam had set up an altar and was burning incense; Judy was wearing her basset hound for a fur piece while her playmate jumped rope with a Slinky.

Everybody got in the act, but the professional beats weren't hard to single cut. The Devils Disciples, blood-brother to the Hells Angels and the fighting arm of Boston hippy-power, had staked out their turf next to their mounts and squatted on the ground shining their Nazi helmets. Up near the Weeks bridge, a semipro combo formed the nucleus for what became an ever increasing circle of sound. There was a full set of skins, bongos, congos, a bass, sax, and crazy flutist.

Next door a buxom broad bounced to the beat. A cop walked over, his hip holster unflapped and tried to scowl; a battered Ford sedan puttered up the river at five knots and no one noticed. A gorilla sauntered by and everyone smiled.

Greasy-haired teeny-boppers (usually busy throwing eggs at peace-marchers) had taken off their boots and grown a beard for the occasion. Women with flowers tempted full grown children with an apron stuffed with candies.

The straight sat next to the crooked: a Harvard business-school-type soaked up the bennies (beneficial rays) in his madras shorts as his girl friend bit "Good Luck Dean Monro" balloons. In the adjacent houses, the complacent clique frugged on their fire escape until the cavalry told them: "Ya gotta have a license for that."

There was a U.N. flag, a Communist flag, a Ho-sheet, and a Mona Lisa poster--but no one was feeling serious. There were just a lot of people milling around doing a total of nothing for at least four hours. It kinda restored your faith.

Jesus, I wish I were stoned, one necktie lamented. But it wasn't hardly necessary