d in a London edition of his works, and there is a mild, chronic, Quakerly flirtation between her and Whittier, who wrote in the April Atlantic a charming poem about a ride with her at Princeton last year.
She is a fine-looking woman of forty-five, but the hotel scandal of last year was that she wears what are called plumpers in her cheeks to preserve the roundness of early years, and though I hold this a libel, still the overwhelming majority of last year's Princetonians believe it. Miss Betsey Sturgis, that arbiter of fashion, says plumpers are very common in Philadelphia and she does n't doubt Mrs. H. wears them.
Nature has plumped the cheerful B. S., but there is no telling what other beautifying appliances may not be purchased with Mrs. Cushing's bequest.
Princeton, July, 1862
Here we are at this most placid of places, just now stirred to its Sunday excitement, the greatest it ever knows.
Country wagons with people in their best bonnets go quietly by, or stop to call at