"To be sure they don’t," agreed Mrs. Merrill, "but black pumps would be vastly better than blistered heels, so we’ll take them along to be sure. Are we ready now?" she added and as nobody objected she locked the door and they set out for Cambridge and Class Day. The first thing on their arrival at Harvard was to see Uncle Hal’s room. It was on the first floor in Matthews and was so attractive that Mary Jane thought she would like to stay here all day and just look at things. Off the main room, which was both a living room and study, were two tiny bedrooms, one Uncle Hal’s and the other his roommate’s. Mary Jane was fascinated by those tiny rooms. "It’s just as I’d like a house," she said to her uncle, "a great big room with banners and pictures and lots of things to look at and a tiny little room all my own to keep house in." "Do you cook your breakfast there?" asked Alice as she spied a chafing dish in a corner. "Heavens! No!" laughed Hal, "what do you think we come to Harvard for? To practice cooking? No, that’s only for fudge or something—just on state occasions." "Well, isn’t this a state occasion?" asked Alice. "Um-m, well, yes it is," admitted Hal, as he saw he had cornered himself, "but I’m afraid there isn’t time for fudge-making. See, there is the band already and it’s almost time to go over to the hall for the exercises." Mary Jane was quite willing to give up fudge for a band and she stood at the window watching the yard. It was a picture to make any little girl—or big girl either—look long. The yard was gayly decorated with lanterns and streamers, and chairs set about invited folks to be comfortable while they visited or listened to the band. The walks and open spaces were thronged with well-dressed people all eager and happy and having a beautiful time. The frequent sight of a student in cap and gown, or, less often, in the red garb of marshal, made Mary Jane feel as though it was all a great play, and she was thrilled to think that she—Mary Jane—only six years old and living way off in Chicago—was there seeing it all. There were lots of men and lots of women but she hadn’t yet seen a single girl as young as herself. "I must remember every bit of it so’s to tell it to Daddah," she said to herself, as a group of students and alumni went by singing, "I must remember it all." But of course a person couldn’t remember it _all_—for something was happening every minute! The exercises in Sander’s Theatre for which, thanks to Uncle Hal’s many friends, they all had seats; lunch at the "Dickey," one of Uncle Hal’s clubs, and the procession to the Stadium. Much to Mary Jane’s amazement, this procession was led by _old_ men—men as old as her grandfather. "Why, do they go to Harvard, Mother?" she asked as the old men marched by. "Not now, dear," answered Mrs. Merrill, "they went there years ago—oh, long ago." "Then what are they in Uncle Hal’s Class Day for?" asked Mary Jane.