Lin asserted that "the durn jingling contraption, jes spiled the hull thing and ye don't make good music with it nohow." Lin's deductions could not be controverted. Alfred did not make good music with his tambourine but it is a fact that he succeeded in drowning a great deal of bad. It was a night never to be forgotten; one of those nights that will linger long in fondest remembrance by any who have enjoyed them. It was the night of one of those old time parties, one of those healthful, pleasure giving affairs, an old fashioned family party. Relatives, near and distant, uncles, aunts, nephews and nieces, cousins and friends, came by invitation to the old home. Games and recitations, blind-man's buff, button, button, who's got the button, Uncle Joe, blindfolded, pursuing the prettiest girl at the frolic, brought roars of laughter from everyone but Aunt Betsy. Lin, sitting on a crock endeavoring to pass a linen thread through the eye of a cambric needle; Uncle Jack, blindfolded trying to pin the tail on the proper place on the paper donkey stuck against the wall. When he stuck the pin in the keyhole of the parlor door the laughter shook the sash in the windows. The young folks formed in a circle holding hands, slowly revolving around a bashful young man standing in the center of the circle. As they circled they sang that old ditty so dear to the youth of those days: "King William was King George's son, And from a royal race he sprung; And on his breast he wore a star, That marked his bravery in the war. Go choose your East, go choose your West, Go choose the one that you love best." Here the young man tagged the girl of his choice. Of course, the girl broke from the circle and ran but was easily captured. She was led to the center of the circle which again revolved and the song continued: "Down on this carpet you must kneel, Just as the grass grows in the field; Salute your bride and kiss her sweet, And you may rise unto your feet." When the bashful young man received a thumping thwack from the girl of his choice in return for the kiss he planted on her rosy cheek, the laughter was renewed tenfold. All this may look cold in print to the young folks of today but it made the hot blood of the boys and girls of those good old days flow faster than the patter of their feet to the tune of the songs they sang. Sis Minks sang "Barbara Allen" with such telling effect that the assembled multitude became "as subdued as a Quaker meetin'" as Lin described it.