She came into the room. Shall I ever forget the chill and depression she brought with her? A short, stout, middle-aged woman with light brown hair, a turned-up nose, a pink and white complexion, spectacles, and penetrating steel-blue eyes. She looked us up and down and through and through. I never felt so utterly small and insignificant. I think she said “Humph!” when, in desperation at her scrutiny, I faltered, “We’ve come to study medicine.” I tried to add that we wanted to see the Dean; that he had written us; was expecting us; but she interrupted me. The Dean was not to be seen then; we were to register, fill out certain blanks, answer the questions, and then write an essay of a given number of words setting forth our reasons for studying medicine, _if we had any_; or write on any topic we chose. Then she left us. Glancing furtively at each other, we each read the dismay that neither dared express. I think we felt her ears were as sharp as her eyes and that she would hear the lightest whisper. We almost feared she could hear our thoughts. For an hour or more we wrote on the questions and the essay. Then she came and told us we were to meet others of the Faculty to be examined orally in Latin translation, physics, and chemistry. What a blow! Coming from New York state where the all-powerful Regents reigned, we had supposed that our Regents’ certificates and our academic diplomas would exempt us from all examinations. “We don’t have to be examined,” we ejaculated in unison. “You don’t? Are you college graduates?” (Sarcastically) “No, but we have our Regents’ Certificates and pass-cards.” “Regents’ certificates?--what are they?” Had the bottom fallen out of everything? The Regents, THE REGENTS--that tyrant for which we had toiled so long, whose coveted seal we had on our precious diplomas! _And she doesn’t even know what the Regents is!_