at the critical time, when all eyes were turned toward him, would get fairly under the flying ball, and then let it roll through his hands while the batter got his base. At any exciting part of the game the fielding nine could be depended upon to make errors enough to let the others win the game. Then, as now, the umpire’s place was the hardest one to fill. It was the rule that the umpire should be chosen by the visiting club; and this carried him into a violently hostile camp. Of course, he, like everyone else, could be relied on in critical times to decide in favor of his friends; but such decisions called down on him the wrath of the crowd, who sometimes almost drove him off the field. It was a famous club that used to gather on the square. Whether in batting, catching, or running bases, we always had a boy who was the best in all the country round, and the base-ball club added not a little to the prestige that we all thought belonged to Farmington. One game I shall remember to the last moment of my life. The fight had been long and hard, with our oldest and most hated rivals. The day was almost done, and the shadows already warned us that night was close at hand. We had come to the bat for the last half of the last inning, and were within one of the score of the other side, with two players out, and two on bases. Of course no more exciting situation could exist; for this was the most critical portion of the most important event of our young lives. It came my turn to take the bat. After one or two feeble failures to hit the ball, I swung my club just at the right time and place and with tremendous force. The ball went flying over the roof of the store, and rolled down to the river-bank on the other side. I had gone quite around the ring before anyone could get near the ball. I can never forget the wild ovation in which I ran around the ring, and the mad enthusiasm when the home-plate was reached and the game was won. Whenever I read of Cæsar’s return to Rome, I somehow think of this great hit and my home-run which won the game. All the evening, knots of men and boys gathered in the various public places to discuss that unprecedented stroke. Next day at church almost every eye was turned toward me as I walked conspicuously and a little tardily up the aisle, and for days and weeks my achievement was the chief topic of the town. Finally the impression wore away, as all things do in this busy world where everybody wants the stage at once, and then I found myself obliged to call attention to my great feat. Whenever any remarkable play was mentioned or great achievement referred to, I would say, “Yes, but do you remember the time I knocked the ball over the store and made that home-run?” Many years have passed since then, and here I am again relating this exploit and writing it down to be printed in a book.