there a blind man, led by a dog, soliciting alms; organ-grinders
and hurdy-gurdy grinders, bears and monkeys, jugglers and
sword-swallowers, all mingled in inextricable confusion.

In a neighboring field, a countryman had, perchance, let loose a
fox, which the dogs were worrying to death, while the surrounding
crowd testified their pleasure at the scene by shouts of
approbation. Nor was there any want of the spirituous; pails of
punch, guarded by stout negroes, bore witness to their own subtle
contents, now by the man who lay curled up under the adjoining
hedge, "forgetting and forgot," and again by the drunkard,
reeling, cursing, and fighting among his comrades.

The following observations from the pen of Professor Sidney
Willard, afford an accurate description of the outward
manifestations of Commencement Day at Harvard College, during the
latter part of the last century. "Commencement Day at that time
was a widely noted day, not only among men and women of all
characters and conditions, but also among boys. It was the great
literary and mob anniversary of Massachusetts, surpassed only in
its celebrities by the great civil and mob anniversary, namely,
the Fourth of July, and the last Wednesday of May, Election day,
so called, the anniversary of the organization of the government
of the State for the civil year. But Commencement, perhaps most of
all, exhibited an incongruous mixture of men and things. Besides
the academic exercises within the sanctuary of learning and
religion, followed by the festivities in the College dining-hall,
and under temporary tents and awnings erected for the
entertainments given to the numerous guests of wealthy parents of
young men who had come out successful competitors for prizes in