It was a beautiful night in Northampton. The moon was full and the campus was buzzing with Saturday night activity. A red convertible pulled up in front of one of the dorms and four Dartmouth Juniors paraded up the steps, in the door and up to the girl on "watch."

"We'd like dates for tonight," the leader said.

Twenty minutes later 13 girls descended the stairs and after a fifteen minute inspection, five were chosen. They piled in the car and ware off.

Although this incident actually occurred, Smith girls will deny it. Like women everywhere the sometime recluse derides the story that male companionship--Harvard included--is at a premium in Northampton. Although nearby Amherst is well received, statistics at the big dances would seem that they Ivy man is in demand.

And the automobile is a necessity, for the best time in Northampton, day or night, is to be found outside of Northampton. Of course, it doesn't have to be a red convertible, although that too is an asset which should not be overlooked.

Money is always nice to have too, especially when one is faced with a girl's rebellion against institutional food.

Whether its Junior Prom or Charity Ball, or even a weekday date, a well-recommended way to a Smith girl's heart is through her stomach. Rahar's Inn, served by popular "Murph," is the handiest, while Wiggins Old Tavern is nice, in a plush fashion. For beer, pizza, and "atmosphere," the girls like Joe's, but the mountain-top Log Cabin or the Sportsman's Club provide a full meal or dancing.

Picnics in the Berkshires, expeditions up Mount Tom, or even a stroll around Paradise Pond while away the daytime pleasantly on unplanned weekends, but in the evening the pickings are poor. After a meal, if a couple doesn't take in one of the two movies, there is nothing much left but to provide its own entertainment.

Dances at Davis or Scott liven up Saturday evenings, and such variety performances as the Rally Day show, take care of other nights. This year's show, "Quelques Chose", featured Charles Addams, Yale (though they liked the Harvardman's gift of the "Fruit of the month"), and a song whimsically entitled "No Sex After Six."

To keep the panting male on his toes in daylight, jazz, athletics, carnivals, or even Saturday classes are provided. The total impression of an organized college weekend is one of frantic activity.

During the week the problem is different. It's not "where to take her," but "How to get her out?" 10:15 is the weekday curfew. If she doesn't make the deadline, the penalty is obscure, and rumored to be up to "J.B." (Judicial Board) and horrible. At any rate the goodnight kiss is interrupted regularly by consulting the watch. On weekends the porches are littered with such goodnight kissers, though some get the privacy of "smooch boxes," or storm doors.

If you're lucky, she can persuade two friends to sit up for her, and she'll take a "special late" till midnight. As these are limited, if you get one, consider yourself set.

Yet with all the outlying beauty of the countryside, and the attractive eating places, the most efficient way of satisfying a Smith girl is still the cheapest--have her show you Paradise.