Mar., 1919 53 
ALBERT MILLS INGERSOLL—AN AUTOBIOGRAPHY 
WITH PHOTO 
HE UNDERSIGNED prefers to believe that his life history is of too little 
| general interest to warrant appearance on the pages of THE Connor. But 
after the third urgent request from his esteemed friend, the Editor, the 
writer sets aside his own preferences and with due apologies submits the follow- 
ing autobiography. 
I, Albert Mills Ingersoll, the third child of Dr. J. O. M. and Caroline E. 
Ingersoll, was born at Ithaca, New York, August 9, 1857. From hearsay, I 
learned that I came into this world a very frail baby and that my parents 
scarcely expected to raise me. At the age of eighteen months, I was picked up 
and tossed in the air by a playful physician, who exclaimed ‘‘this is the way 
to make weak babies grow’’. Unfortunately, he didn’t realize that he was per- 
forming the act in a room having a rather low ceiling, and the result was an 
uneonseious child. I struck the ceiling midway between two joists, the flexible 
laths taking up some of the shock. My little head made a dent in the plaster 
that was easily discernible in later years when pointed out to me. 
The worst accident that happened to me, occurred in 1868. Slipping on an 
‘ice-covered gate my head was thrown violently against a post. Somewhat 
dazed, but scarcely realizing how seriously injured I was, I rose up and started 
toward school, fainted, and was carried home, never again to enter a school- 
house as a-pupil. This blow, occurring at the age of eleven, had a far-reaching 
effect on the future course of my life and was the indirect cause of my having 
ample time to engage in natural history pursuits. Dimness of vision increased 
gradually until it was impossible for me to distinguish men from women at a 
distance of. one hundred feet. My mother took me to consult the famous ocu- 
hist, Dr. Agnew, of New York City. His diagnosis of my affliction was passive 
congestion of the optic nerve. He advised that I refrain from reading or re- 
suming my studies under a year and warned me that I would court blindness 
by straining my eyes while in their present condition. I was told that by liv- 
ing an out-of-door life and taking suitable medicines to build up my impaired 
heaith it was reasonable to expect the eye trouble would pass away by the 
time I was of age. 
After weary months of suffering my eyes became as keen of sight as for- 
inerly, but they never recovered from certain muscular troubles; and to this 
day reading and writing is so trying that they effect my general health if ear- 
ried on for more than an hour or so. On many days, I can only skim over the 
daily papers. 
Hampered by poor health in addition to this serious eye trouble, I experi- 
enced difficulty in choosing an occupation, realizing the necessity of selecting 
a business requiring of me but a minimum amount of clerical work. Always 
extravagantly fond of flowers and candy, I fancied I could sueceed in making 
a living in either the florist or confectionary business. As time rolled on, the 
craving for sweets appealed to me stronger than the love for flowers; so, econ- 
centrating on a purpose, I decided to move to San Diego and engage in the 
candy and ice cream business. 
On September 22, 1888, ‘‘Ingersoll’s Palace of Sweets’’ opened its doors to 
the public. That memorable event occurred during my thirty-first year of life, 
