1924] Robinson,—Miss Day 47 
included visits to Kew, the British Museum of Natural History, 
the Jardin des Plantes in Paris and the great botanical establishments 
in Geneva. In 1911 they made another trip to Europe in company 
with a third sister, the wife of the Rev. Burke F. Leavitt. There is 
no doubt that Miss Day much enjoyed these. journeys and that they 
considerably broadened her interests but she rarely spoke of them. 
After the death of her sister Helen, Miss Day made her home with 
Mr. and Mrs. Leavitt who had come to Cambridge on his retirement 
after long service in the ministry. It thus was possible for Miss 
Day to have the comforts of a home and consolation of being among 
near relatives during the three months of her final illness. 
Miss Day’s position at the Herbarium brought her a wide acquaint- 
ance—students puzzled by the elements of botany, candidates for 
the doctorate struggling with their dissertations, distinguished explor- 
ers planning expeditions, government experts from Washington, 
authors finishing textbooks, artists drawing botanical plates, research 
workers in the midst of the most baffling problems. All of them turned 
to her for aid when it came to the literature of their subject. She 
was friendly with all, interested in their work, sympathetic with their 
difficulties. She seemed to remember everybody. 
She had a wide correspondence, that is to say she constantly received ` 
letters from former students and assistants of the Herbarium who 
had become established elsewhere, and she answered them as best 
she could. They always remembered her, remained her friends, and 
turned to her for assistance. They asked all imaginable questions 
and made the most varied requests—for transcriptions of technical 
matter, for citations, titles, dates of editions, advice regarding book- 
purchases, counsel in domestic difficulties, and one of them, settled in 
a far western state, asked her to send him a wife. 
Miss Day became one of the oldest of Harvard's great band of 
specialized workers. Up to her seventieth year she changed little, 
retaining remarkably her energy and vigor, and to the rapidly passing 
four-year generations of students seemed almost as much a fixture 
in the University as Appleton Chapel or Memorial Hall. She rarely 
lost a day by illness, habitually worked after the closing hour, and 
voluntarily assumed many small duties in addition to her regular 
work. She would have made equally good in many other occupations. 
It was by chance that she entered botany—a chance truly fortunate 
for the science since her contribution to its development was individual 
in character, notable in extent, and of an enduring nature. 
