Hillary Rodham was quite the scholarly scribe at Wellesley in the late 1960s. A popular and inadvertently funny article in Sunday's New York Times (hey, remember this?) reveals letters she wrote to her goody goody Illinois friend, John Peavoy, then a Princeton undergrad. Peavoy, like any trustworthy old pal, recently sent the Times copies of these really personal letters.

One of these letters is notable for IvyGate's reasons. It might just involve some Ivy League debauchery, Hot Rodham-style. But first, let's check out some of our bespectacled maven's best lines. They're... weird.

• "Since Xmas vacation, I've gone through three-and-a-half metamorphoses and am beginning to feel as though there is a smorgasbord of personalities spread before me. So far, I've used alienated academic, involved pseudo-hippie, educational and social reformer and one-half of withdrawn simplicity." Intellectually perturbed Hillary Rodham, spring of 1967
• "I'd play out in the patch of sunlight that broke the density of the elms in front of our house and pretend there were heavenly movie cameras watching my every move." Wistful Hillary Rodham, fall of 1966
• "I have been enjoying myself too much, and spring and letter-writing are -- to the bourgeois mind -- no excuses!" Self-flagellating Hillary Rodham, fall of 1966

Oh Barrister Peavoy, I dost feareth that my oeuvre of lexical configurations will be coarsened by an upstart ragamuffin medium as I chance electorally for neo-Queen of the colonial republic!

And so, on with the tale. When not churning out her overwrought woe-is-me's, Rodham was gettin' down and... not having sex. Not until one night, that is, when she got keen on a (Big?) Green in the hamlet of Hanover, New Hampshire.

Readers, this might get a little too steamy for some of you. But if you've got a curious mind and an even dirtier disposition, I suggest you put the kids to bed, spin some Marvin and let the Telegraph's account of young Rodham's Dahhtmouth tryst set your mind ablaze.

For censorship reasons, it will come after the jump.

Wham: 

She wrote in late 1967 that she "met a boy from Dartmouth and spent a Saturday night in Hanover," a reference to the New Hampshire town that is the home of Dartmouth College.

Hubba hubba, that saucy minx, that devilish Lolita! And Dartmouth, you studs -- Hillary had her only maybe kinda one-night stand on your cold-ass grounds. Um, natch? I think so.

Still, Hillary the Hanover Ho was known to moonlight as the Hampshire Hypocrite:

...[She] appears to disapprove of girls sleeping with their boyfriends. Reporting that a fellow student had been caught in her boyfriend's apartment in Cambridge at 3.15am, she declared: "I don't condone her actions, but I'll defend to expulsion her right to do as she pleases -- an improvement on Voltaire."

There's the slogan she needs to bury Obama once and for all: "Vote for Hillary: An Improvement on Voltaire."

--JIM NEWELL