Through bush, through briar,
Over park and dale,
Through flood, through fire.
Wherever the leader went we must follow, over fences, off stone walls, in and out of houses, astonishing families, and if the boot of the head of the family was in order, coming out a little more expeditiously than we went in. The members of the North street gang, to which I belonged, were besides myself and brother, Augustus H. Tribble, the Collingwood boys, John J. Russell, Richard W. Bagnall, Lewis Weston, the Jackson boys, Thomas Cotton, Charles Cotton, George Maynard, George Gooding and Charles T. May.
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 was so low that such an afternoon expedition could be had without extravagance. We could hire for a half a day at George Drew’s stable in Middle street, for a dollar, either Dolly or Little Jack, or the Eastern mare, or the Peabody horse with a chaise, or for a dollar and a half, Bob sorrel with a carryall. I say chaise, a name derived through the English word chair, from the French chaire, because buggies were unknown in Plymouth in my youth. Buggies were introduced from India, where in Hindustani they were called baggi or bagghi, four wheeled carriages with hoods, and our wagon is derived from the Dutch word wagen. Every family owning a horse had a chaise, and carriage houses were universally called chaise houses, as they are still by myself, and older persons. The fronts of these houses were always made with curved tops, and I know of only three now left in town, those of Mrs. Lothrop, Father Buckley and William Rider Drew. The first buggy in Plymouth was brought from Boston by my uncle, Nathaniel Morton Davis in the 1830’s, and was owned by John Harlow of Chiltonville at the time of his death a few years ago.
Of the indoor games of my youth, battledore and shuttlecock and the graces have gone out. The other games of the young were as they are now, blind man’s buff, scandal, cribbage, backgammon, commerce, whist, chess, checkers, vingt-un, all fours, bragg, loo and euchre. The gambling game of bridge was unknown, as it ought to be today. Quadrille was played by older people, and Boston, after a disappearance for many years, was again introduced in 1844. Piquet, the ancient game of ombre adapted to four instead of three persons, and played also by older persons, was immortalized by Pope in the following lines:
Belinda when thirst of fame invites,
Burns to encounter two adventurous knights,
At ombre singly to decide their doom,