use, and the ladies of the family would pass
it round to each other to keep their toes from freezing; but
the boys did not get much benefit from it.

They had good schools in Concord, and the boys generally
were good scholars and read good books. So whenever they
thought fit they could use as good language as anybody; but
their speech with one another was in the racy, pithy Yankee
dialect, which Lowell has made immortal in the "Biglow Papers."
It was not always grammatical, but as well adapted for conveying
wit and humor and shrewd sense as the Scotch of Burns.

The boys knew very well how to take the conceit or vanity
out of their comrades. In the summer days all the boys of
the village used to gather at a place on the river, known as
Thayer's swimming-place, about half a mile from the town
pump, which was the centre from which all distances were
measured in those days. There was a little gravel beach
where you could wade out a rod or two, and then for a rod
or two the water was over the boy's head. It then became
shallow again near the opposite bank. So it was a capital
place to learn to swim.

After they came out, the boys would sit down on the bank
and have a sort of boys' exchange, in which all matters of
interest were talked over, and a great deal of good-natured
chaff was exchanged. Any newcomer had to pass through an
ordeal of this character, in which his temper and quality
were thoroughly tried. I remember now an occasion which
must have happened when I was not more than eight or ten
years old, when a rather awkward-looking greenhorn had come
down from New Hampshire and made his appearance at the swimming-
place. The boys, one after another, tried him by putting
mocking questions or attempting to humbug him with some large
story. He received it all with patience and good nature until
one remark seemed to sting him from his propriety. He turned
with great dignity upon the offender, and said, "Was that
you that spoke, or was it a punkin busted?" We all thought
that it was well said, and took him into high favor.

I suppose the outdoor winter sports have not changed much
since my childhood. The sluggish Concord River used to overflow
its banks and cover the broad meadows for miles, where we
found excellent skating, and where the water would be only
a foot or two in depth. The boys could skate for ten miles
to Billerica and ten miles back, hardly going over deep water,
except at the bridges, t