. The story of a pilgrim family from the Mayflower to the present time : with autobiography, recollections, letters, incidents, and genealogy of the author, Rev. John Alden in his 83rd year . llows as we are; nevertheless, to make the thingsure, we tried to find some of the faculty, who ventured toleave town without consulting us, and we concluded to fol-low their example as they are excellent men, and leavewithout consulting them. Now if you think we need anyexcuse, please give it. With a smile he said, You are all excused, while hiswife was convulsed with laughter, and the professor, too. Be
. The story of a pilgrim family from the Mayflower to the present time : with autobiography, recollections, letters, incidents, and genealogy of the author, Rev. John Alden in his 83rd year . llows as we are; nevertheless, to make the thingsure, we tried to find some of the faculty, who ventured toleave town without consulting us, and we concluded to fol-low their example as they are excellent men, and leavewithout consulting them. Now if you think we need anyexcuse, please give it. With a smile he said, You are all excused, while hiswife was convulsed with laughter, and the professor, too. Between Amherst and Hadley was a large meadow thatin the January thaw was filled with water. When frozenover it made a fine skating rink of about half a mile inlength. To this, one Saturday, as we had no studies onthat day, about a score of us classmates decided togo. One of my class had a patent pair of skates likemine, which gave us both vantage ground. About halfway down the meadow, was a fence frozen in with three orfour rails above the ice. I boastingly said, I challengeyou all to catch me ere we get to the end of the student with patent skates, was the only one who kept. COLLEGE LIFE. 49 near me. We both jumped the fence, and as I came nearthe lower end of the meadow, I saw two large brush heaps,a little ways apart, and in making an effort to skatebetween them, the ice broke through, and plunged me intothe brush heap. My classmate, coming with lightning speedat a little different angle, broke through the ice, and cameagainst me, driving me still farther into the rotten brushheap. I tore the iron out of one of my skates when I lay there laughing, and the rest in the rear set up ashouting; we were so full of mirth we did not rise immedi-ately. Are you was the cry. No, but we havespoiled the farmers brush heap for him. Taking up mybroken skate, I said Good afternoon, gentlemen, so muchfor bragging and racing. Where are you going? saidthey. Back to col
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