nner cost us many a headache, and many a soiled suit of clothes
after the usual Saturday battle. On one occasion we sallied forth as
usual to the battlefield, carrying our banner, and shouting derisively
at our foe. The enemy had been reinforced and after a hard struggle,
they captured our flag and carried it off in triumph to East North
street.

Our fellows were a crest-fallen lot, as we sat on the steps of the
church looking the picture of dejection. However, a few days later, I
summoned the boys to meet in an old building in Ferrier's Lane. There
were fifteen of us and we came armed with our wooden swords. After
much debate over the loss of our flag, a committee was appointed to
notify the East North street fellows, that we were ready to offer
battle, and dared them to meet us the following Saturday and bring the
captured flag. They accepted the challenge. When we met again in the
old building by the hazy and flickering light of a tallow candle, with
upraised swords we swore to re-capture our flag, uphold the honor of
our street or die in the attempt. I was chosen captain on this
occasion, and never did a general rack his brain more for a plan of
success than I did to win this battle. Finally I hit upon a stratagem
and after school submitted it to all. It was to proceed to the usual
place of battle, but at the corner of Queen street five boys were to
be stationed out of sight, and when both armies met they were to rush
in on their standard bearer and capture the flag. We met, and even to
this day I shudder at the ferocity of that battle. Twice I was knocked
down; several times our street was on the retreat when someone
shouted--"Remember our oath!" and then another desperate rush, and
along with the charge of the five secreted ones which so surprised the
East North street boys that they finally yielded, and we carried off
our flag in triumph. John Taylor's head was cut, John Ingerham's eyes
were black, my right knee cap was out of place and six or eight others
were more or less wounded. The boys of East North street fared about
the same. Good old Doctor Ellis living in King street witnessed the
fight, but he kept my secret, for I told Mother that I was hurt in
running a race.

And so those delightful days of early boyhood passed like one long
summer day. But a change came. My father died and in a few months
more, my loving Mother, after a lingering illness, passed away. I then
left the home of my childhood to live