three o'clock
The seniors are there with their mothers and fathers , their pretty little sisters and their proud little brothers -- the flower of the country . One looks about and sees everywhere high-bred faces , strong faces , open-eyed , drinking in this extraordinary scene . For there is nothing just like it elsewhere . Across the field where hundreds of automobiles and carriages are drawn close -- beyond that is a gate-way , and through this , at three o'clock or so , comes pouring a rainbow . A gigantic , light-filled , motion-swept rainbow of men . The first rays of vivid color resolve into a hundred Japanese geishas ; they come dancing , waving paper umbrellas down Yale Field ; on their heels press Dutch kiddie , wooden-shod , in scarlet and white , with wigs of peroxide hair . Then sailors , some of them twirling oars -- the famous victorious crew of fifteen years back ; with these march a dozen lads from fourteen to eight , the sons of the class , sailor-clad too ; up from their midst as they reach the centre of the field drifts a flight of blue balloons of all sizes .