skating was good, but my father would never allow us to take either to school; in fact, our hand sleigh was always one made by our father, up to the time I was about ten years old, when greatly to the joy of my brother and me, we had a real "store" sleigh. At the age of about twelve, I had my first pair of skates.

The farm community which surrounded us was composed of a very substantial class of native-born Americans, and their homes and surroundings as well as the farms indicated thrift. They were good neighbors, always ready to respond in case of sickness or to help where one had extra work needing assistance.

I recall the serious illness of my father with typhoid. The corn had been cut and was ready for the husking, so the neighbors got together, and one day a body of men came uninvited and without the knowledge of our family and husked the corn and placed it in the grainery. We were much impressed with the silence this body of men observed as they passed near the house where my father lay ill.

The good people of this community planned a cemetery near the country church, surrounding it with a well-laid wall of stone and masonry with graveled walks, and every care was given it. Today they are all laid away in the little cemetery, including also my father and mother. The cemetery is two miles North of Middletown, N.Y., and the church that was originally standing near and which has since been removed was known as the Wallkill Church. It derived its name from the township in which it was located - the town of Wallkill, Orange County.

The neighborhood has naturally undergone great changed since I was a boy, and the general appearance is one of neglect. With the opening of the great agricultural West, the small farmer of the East has found it difficult to compete, and so the farms of the community about which I am writing are now completely occupied by foreigners.

New York was the magnet that attracted the young men from these farms, and there are many well known business houses in New York today that were founded by the young country element of Orange County, N.Y. The Horton Ice Cream Company, whose history is that of James M. Horton, the son of a neighbor of ours and whose father was a brother of my mother's father. Young James M. Horton came to New York and drove a milk wagon for the Orange County Milk Association. After a period of years he bought out the Association and eventually began the manufacture of ice

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