earned, costumed and rehearsed, and supervised by a
committee from the faculty--are amusing little farces in one or two
short scenes. "Sherlock Holmes," on the other hand, was a four act,
blood-curdling melodrama, with three different stage settings, an
abundance of pistol shots, a flash-light fire, shrieks and a fainting
fit on the part of the heroine, the raiding of a robbers' den in the
denouement, and "a lot more excitement all through than there is in Mr.
Gillette's play," as Mary modestly informed her caste. It was
necessarily cruder, as it was far more ambitious, than the commoner sort
of amateur play; but the audience, whether little freshmen who had seen
few similar performances, or upper class girls who had seen a great many
and so fully appreciated the novelty of this one, were wildly
enthusiastic. Every actress, down to Helen, who made a very stiff and
stilted "Buttons," and Rachel and Mary Rich who appeared in the robbers'
den scene as Betty's female accomplices, and in the heroine's
drawing-room as her wicked mother and her stupid maid respectively, was
rapturously received; and Dr. Holmes and Sir Archibald, whose hat was
decidedly the hit of the evening, were forced to come before the
curtain. Finally, in response to repeated shouts for "author," Mary
Brooks appeared, flushed and panting from her vigorous exertions as
prompter, stage manager, and assistant dresser, and informed the
audience that owing to the kindness of Mrs. Chapin there was lemon-ice
in the dining-room, and would every one please go out there, so that
this awful mess,--with a comprehensive wave of her hand toward the ruins
of the robbers' den piled on top of the heroine's drawing-room
furniture, which in turn had been a rearrangment of Dr. Holmes's
study,--could be cleared up, and they could dance there later?

At this the audience again applauded, sighed to think that the play was
over, and then joyfully adjourned to the dining-room to eat Mrs.
Chapin's ice and examine the actors at close range. All these speedily
appeared, except Helen, who had crept up-stairs quite unnoticed the
moment her part was finished, and Eleanor, who, hunting up Betty,
explained that she had a dreadful headache and begged Betty to look
after her guests and not for anything to let them come up-stairs to find
her. Betty, who was busily washing off her "fierce frown" at the time,
sputtered a promise through the mixture of soap, water and vaseline she
was using, d