Football came next in the early autumn, with a ball made of an ox bladder inserted in a leather case of our own making. We bought the bladder at the slaughter house, and put it in pickle until it was ready to be used, and then when the case was made we put it through a slit, and blowing it up with a quill tied a string around the nozzle, laced up the slit, and the game began. In those days all the boys wore boots, and consequently little damage was done to our shins. With the coming of the first cool nights we hunted in the morning for strips of ice in the gutter, and spent the hour before school in sliding, boys and girls together, the girls, I never knew the reason why, giving a little hop at the beginning of their slide. And then came our sliding down hill, the larger boys with George P. Hayward and William Rider Drew and Jesse Turner at their head. Mr. Hayward’s Constitution, painted green, and having round steel spring runners, taking the lead, would slide from the top of Burial Hill down through a wide open gate between the high schoolhouse and the Unitarian church, along Leyden street, down Turner’s hill to the end of Barnes’ wharf. The smaller boys would spend the afternoons of Saturday perfectly happy on the short slide from the bottom of the Middle street steps to Water street. All our sleds were made to order, scorning as we would if they had been purchasable, the toy sleds which can now be bought for a song, and are high at the price. There was a sled of domestic manufacture in my day which, considering its cheapness and simplicity, was a quite satisfactory sled in the minds of those who could afford no better. It was made of six white oak cask staves, three above and three below, with the convex on the outside, and a cleat at each end between the staves, to which it was nailed. With a little less speed, perhaps, than other sleds, yet in humpy dagger and belly hacker in wearing out boot toes, and heels, they were as efficient as any. With skating and its accompaniment hockey, the winter passed away, and the year came to an end. Of course many out of door games now in vogue were not known in my early days. Cricket was little played, while croquet, tennis, and golf had not made their appearance. To these modern innovations doubtless before long curling and lacrosse will be added. The game of ten pins was a familiar one, but its enjoyment was limited by the almost entire absence of alleys until the Samoset alleys were built in 1845. There was a poor, short alley on Billington Sea Island, but rarely used except on the occasion of picnics. It was by no means an uncommon thing in the college vacation to go as far as Holmes’ Tavern, near Harrub’s corner, and roll in the alleys of Mr. Holmes, whose lame back we sorely tried by his efforts to act as ball boy, and sometimes we went as far as an alley near the Cushman cotton factory, beyond Plympton Green. Carriage hire in those days