AT NATURAL BRIDGE 243 



" evening," I had been told, between the 

 Bridge nine (I am sorry not to remember 

 its name) and the Buena Vistas. It turned 

 out, however, so I learned the next day, that 

 a supposed case of smallpox at Buena Vista 

 had made such an interchange of athletic 

 courtesies inexpedient for the time being, 

 and the Bridge men were obliged to be con- 

 tent with a trial of skill among themselves, 

 for which they chose up (" picked off ") 

 after the usual fashion, the two leaders de- 

 ciding which should have the first choice by 

 the old Yankee test of grasping a bat alter- 

 nately hand over hand, till one of them 

 should be able to cover the end of it with 

 his thumb. Such things were pleasant to 

 hear of. I accepted them as of patriotic 

 significance, tokens of national unity. My 

 informant, by the way, was the same man, 

 a young West Virginian, who had told me 

 where to look for Washington's initials on 

 the wall of the bridge. My specialties ap- 

 pealed to him in a measure, and he con- 

 fessed that he wished he were a botanist. 

 He was always very fond of flowers. His 

 side had been victorious in the ball game, 

 he said, in answer to my inquiry. Some of 



