How open and frank the spirit of the conduct of the “court” is, and how it reflects the character of the whole institution, I could only guess, for unfortunately no session of the court could be held that Sunday, as is the custom. In the midst of conversation of a group of some ten of the boys one of them remarked that there would be no court that day. “We ain’t got many cases, Bob, only one fight, one fishin’ without asking, and one fellow smoking out of time.” There was no secret report or accusation; only a cooperative policing, with apparently no trace of grudge. Yet the boys average probably more than twenty years of age. The unfortunate circumstances that prevented court session, as well as the regular base-ball game and morning service that Sunday, was the lamentable drowning of one of the boys while taking a swim, the Thursday preceding. Despite the presence of several good swimmers, and their desperate efforts to save him, he went down beyond aid. The river was dragged the same day, but no trace of his body was found. The next day and the day following was the real test, in my opinion of the spirit of the Farm. The officers were preoccupied, the coroner, undertaker, reporter were busy about the place; some of the boys were taken from their regular work to search for the body; supervision was practically naught. But the season was late. The farm behind time. Work had to be continued. And the boys did work, though with hearts heavy with real sorrow. The next day, Saturday, the coroner dynamited the river in order to bring the body to the surface. Curiosity was added to possible desire to shirk work. Yet all but those aiding in the search were at their ploughs or hoes. Several acres were ploughed and five acres of corn planted by less than twenty boys on Saturday afternoon alone. Early next morning the body was found by one of the boys on search duty. The body was taken to Middletown, three miles away, by the coroner’s undertaker. Morning service was postponed. The rest of the morning was given over to bathing and to visits to the boys. The visitors roamed the farm with the boys at will. The day was ideal, and with the remarkably attractive scenery, helped lift the gloom from the little colony. Even death cannot darken very long such a beautiful spring day in Orange County. Dinner came along for a hungry two-score, with spirits still somewhat subdued, but no longer blackened by the shadow of death. To the regular dinner crowd there were added now the wife and child of the officer occupying the farmhouse.