"Well, then," said Mary Jane, "let's come whenever we can—and oh, I do just love it, I do!"
After a hurried bit of primping at their room the Merrills took the subway to Cambridge where they met Uncle Hal and went to the game. Crowds of gayly-dressed people were all hurrying the same way, bands were playing and colors flying, and Mary Jane got so thrilled that for a while she forgot all about the swan boats. Hal had not been able to get seats all together—one rarely could, he explained; so it was decided that Alice, who was looking (and feeling) very grown-up with her striped sport skirt, blue smock and white sport hat, should sit a few rows away with Lawrence Echart, while Hal and Mrs. Merrill and Mary Jane should sit together.
Alice's seat was halfway down in the middle of the stand and the others were up on the very top row. At first Mary Jane was very frightened; she couldn't stand up, she couldn't look around, for right there behind her was the end of the grandstand and the long, long way down to the ground—straight down. But gradually she got more used to it and she peeked around just a wee, tiny bit.
And there, right in the next row, was a boy about her own age shouting for—Yale!
"Why!" exclaimed Mary Jane in amazement, "he wants Yale to beat!"
"Some people do!" laughed Hal, much amused.
"But Yale!" exclaimed Mary Jane, "why—why—I thought everybody went to Harvard!"
The folks around her couldn't help but hear and they couldn't help being amused at her frankness. One kindly-looking gentleman just in front turned around and said, "Yes, my dear, folks do go to Yale—I did it myself." And everyone laughed.
Usually Mary Jane was very quiet, but the bands and flying colors and crowds of people must have excited her, for she suddenly forgot all about the long distance to the ground—just behind; she grabbed her mother's hand and climbed up on the bench; she waved her crimson banner high over her head and shouted at the top of her small voice, "I'm for Harvard! I want Harvard to win!"
And sure enough, Harvard did.