Another two weeks and the commencement exercises in our public and high schools will begin. The streets of Chicago will be dotted with the slim figures of young girls, clad in white, with bouquets of roses and carnations in their right hand, and diplomas tied with ribbons in their left. In contrast with this feminine adolescence there will be the boys, all in black and brown, ready to forsake their Alma Mater for higher institutions, for fields of achievement, for that web of entanglements we call life.

To consummate years of school full of difficult examinations and quizzes, to sweeten the memory of unpleasantness and wrangling between teachers and pupils, is the purpose of commencement exercises. It is the crowning event of every pupil, boy or girl.

It is a praiseworthy purpose, indeed, since the result of the exercises is an abundance of pleasant experiences and things to be remembered in years to 2come; in the future, a chain of memories, a hoarded-up treasure of past adventures, incidents, reminiscences. As long as commencement exercises make our school day interesting and gratifying, they should be hailed by everyone who has ever attended, or is attending, any educational institution.

Take, for instance, one's own graduation from elementary school; it may have happened years ago; still it is free and alive in one's memory, prominent like a buoy in the sea. Graduation is one of the landmarks in a man's life. Like a wedding; or like a youngster's first love proposal, it remains distinct and vibrating in the memory, keeping alive many fond associations.

Graduation exercises, like any other ceremony, are wrapped in a cloak of solemnity and magnificence. At any rate, in the mind of the inexperienced boy or girl, the very preparation for this important occasion is enough to fire their expectations. Weeks before the grand event, the pupils rehearse the sad tunes of the farewell songs, the recitations, the grand march into the auditorium, under the strains of some somber music; the exact manner of walking over to the platform and receiving the longed-for diploma from the 3hands of the venerated principal or alderman of the district; the obeisance they are to pay as expression of thanks for their education and the diploma.

The rehearsals in themselves are sufficient to engrave these last days of school in the memories of the children. Then the "night of nights" arrives,- the commencement exercises. Can one forget that night? Unless one be a trifle more or less than human, the memory of it will always linger in the heart.

There, on the platform, sit the leading minds of the community, represented by the school authorities, political leaders of the district, each and everyone a model of what can be accomplished through diligent study and obedience to elders. The back seats of the auditorium are occupied by the parents and relatives of the graduates, all in their best attire and the happiest of countenances, with eyes turned to the entrances in the background.

Slowly the school-band starts, the doors swing open and out of the darkness of the corridors march the few hundred. The boys wear neat black suits, white ties, well-groomed shoes glistening in the bright light of the lamps. The girls are dressed in white, red roses pined to their belts, ribbons of blue 4entwining their hair, white slippers and stockings as clean as their experience. Two abreast, they stride, chests protruded with pride as they notice, out of the corners of their eyes, the fond glances of their parents and the smiling faces of the teachers.

Then the program starts. The "Star-Spangled Banner," sung by all assembled, is followed by addresses. In between the speeches, come selections by the graduates: recitations songs, short dialogues, and the valedictory.

The valedictorian is the best orator in the class.

His parents are the proudest parents in the world, except, perhaps, the parents of the winner of the prize for general scholarship. His farewell speech, composed by his teacher of English, and addressed in turn to his fellow graduates, teachers and parents, is delivered with all the gusto and flourishes that a lad of about thirteen can command, and is appreciated by everybody, but particularly by the parents assembled, most of whom do not quite understand the English language, not to mention the English used by a teacher in the writing of a valedictory.

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Finally, the diplomas. The last chords of the farewell song die away under the vaulted school roof; pupils, teachers, and parents mingle to say goodbye to each other.

Ah, those final handshakes with your favorite teacher, your hesitant thanks, the regrets which for the first time creep into your heart, the trembling emotions, as you now cast your final glances at the building where the years of your childhood were spent!

Hundreds of youngsters, in their holiday clothes, strut about through the night at the side of their parents, with diplomas, symbols of achievement, clasped in their hands; the words of the farewell song still ringing in their ears.

Forgotten are the bad days at school, the grudges against the teachers, the fear of examinations; a silent sadness pecks and pecks with its blunted beak.