"But what are you doing?" asked Hal. "Going into the boot and shoe business—repairing department," announced Lawrence. "And if I don’t get the job I want on the Boston _Transcript_, I’m going to open a shop of my own. How’s that feel, now?" he added as he slipped the shoe back on. Mary Jane set her foot gingerly onto the floor. Then, as it didn’t hurt, she pressed, harder and harder. "It’s all right," she said with great relief, "my, but you know a lot and I’m so much obliged!" "You’re entirely welcome," said Mr. Echart smilingly, "we do find a college education useful sometimes," he added teasingly, "even if it’s only for stuffing copy paper into young ladies’ shoes. Now where do we go from here?" "Back to the yard for the music and lights," said Hal, and back to the yard they all went and found themselves chairs where they could hear the singing and watch the beautiful picture made by the throngs of people, the gay lights and the gleaming fountain. *WINNING THE GAME* How Class Day ended and how she got into her own room in the hotel, Mary Jane never in the world could have told you. She had a hazy recollection of singing, and lights, and crowds of people passing and re-passing; of more singing, and more lights, flashing through water and of people stopping to talk to her mother and Uncle Hal and their friends; of Mr. Echart inquiring about her shoe, and of Uncle Hal slipping on the black pumps that he must have gone to his room to get, and putting the white ones in his pocket. And then, later, of being picked up and carried to a taxi and of dozing comfortably against her mother during a long ride. But more than that she didn’t know. And now the sun was shining and her mother was standing at the side of the bed, dressed and ready to go and asking if Mary Jane was ever going to wake up. "Is it all over?" asked Mary Jane sleepily, "Class Day and everything all over?" "Class Day is over," replied Mrs. Merrill, "but everything isn’t. Don’t you remember that to-day is the game, the baseball game between Harvard and Yale?" "Oh, yes," said Mary Jane sitting up in bed and wide awake at once, "it’s the game Harvard wins and we see ’em do it." "You certainly are loyal enough to suit even your Uncle Hal!" exclaimed Mrs. Merrill laughingly. "He never will forget how you told everyone within hearing that you were going to Harvard when you grew up." "Did I really, Mother?" cried Mary Jane in dismay, "when?" She forgot all about being sleepy and sat straight up in bed. "Yes, my dear, you did," replied Mrs. Merrill. "When Hal was trying to wake you up enough to get you into the taxi you said you didn’t want to leave Harvard and that you were going to be president of the Crimson like Uncle Hal. And then, when he told you that you were too young, you announced that you were coming when you grew up."