Page:The Life and Letters of Emily Dickinson (1924).pdf/60

36 moderns, one could have discovered in the small circle of Amherst as beautiful girls, or "young ladies," as they were then called, as ever graced any drawing room. There were as accomplished and well poised matrons, as chivalric young men,—nay, men both old and young, as full of high purpose and generous achievement as could be found in any town, university or commercial.

Under President Humphrey and also under President Hitchcock, Amherst College and Amherst were one. The village, being smaller then, was fully represented at all the college levees, as the receptions were then called, and entered warmly into all college affairs, lectures, and literary occasions. Emily must have played "blind-man's buff" with the rest, in the first President's house, where the high mantel in the kitchen was the rather perilous retreat of the taller boys, since they were safe there from the nervous clutches of the girls, when, aware of great shrinkage in numbers, they pulled up their blinders to bring the culprits down to justice. The Senior Levee given by the President to the graduating class was the event of the year; occurring in August at the close of the term. To this Emily went with all friends of the Senior Class, and all the village beside, and was one of those strolling couples, no doubt, that, wishing to escape ostensibly the modest glare of the astral lamp within, wandered up and down the rural sidewalks in front of the house.

The sketch referred to goes on in more sprightly fashion:

There was never dancing, never vaudeville. I confess there were flirtations, whatever that was—in odd corners, especially under the stairs in the front hall, where a Puritan-backed sofa covered in horsehair, guiltless of cushions, was converted into a rather stiff Arcadia. There was music always, with the piano—Miss Jane Gridley, daughter of the notable Dr. Gridley, the