“Pete” McCarthy, also a Junior, who vehemently claimed that she had nothing to tell me about herself, I discover is fire captain of her house, a member of the French club, and chairman of the spring dance committee.
On Washington’s Birthday, at the annual rally day performance, Mary Truesdell and Lorraine Long, dressed as sailors, with the accompaniment of the Mandolin Club, clogged for us in multifarious rhythms, ways, and manners—or however one does clog—to the astonishment of all of us, who never before dreamed that professional talent actually existed in Northampton.
Elizabeth Carpenter is president of her house. As for the rest of us, Lucy Winton, Eleanor Cook, and me, all I can venture to say—and they agree with me—is that, like the proverbial green freshman, we have been plodding along at studies occasionally, and at all other times we have been eating, sleeping, or amusing ourselves to the nth degree.
I can’t wait to see the new Tatler to find out what you have been doing this year.
Please give my love to everyone.
Very sincerely,
Peg Williams
South Hadley,
Massachusetts,
February 18, 1926.
Dear Margaret Louise:
If I should attempt to tell you everything we are doing here now, I’m afraid that I should go far past the limits of my little column, for our occupations are so multitudinous and varied that there is hardly an end to them.