stood then just as it stood but a few days ago when the fire destroyed it. It
was on the prairie, not a shrub or tree around it. I remember as I was out
examining a chain pump in the yard and turning the crank to see the continuous
flow of water, it was something new to me as I was accustomed to carrying water
from a spring. There were many chain pumps in Pella at that time and as I was
examining that pump I heard a bell. In astonishment I looked around to see where
that noise came from. I finally located it coming from the belfry of old Central
College and as I have often since related I have many times heard Big Ben, said
to be the loudest toned bell in the world, that hangs in the tower house of
Parliament in London, but Big Ben never sounded half so loud as did the little
bell in old Central in September, 1857. And again I have often listened to
Bowbells in the tower of Bow Church on Cheapside, London. These bells are noted
as the sweetest toned bells in all the world. No one is a true Londoner unless
he is born in the sounds of Bowbells. There is a story that Dick Whittington,
when a poor lad with a pack on his back was sitting on a milestone in Islington,
North London; he was leaving London to seek his fortune and Bowbells commenced
to ring and he was represented as holding his hand to his car and listening to
it and he interpreted it as saying, "Come back, come back, and be Lord Mayor of
Londontown." He heeded its summons, he went back and thrice was he Lord Mayor of
London. But as sweet toned as Bowbells were, they never sounded half so sweet as
did that little bell in Central on the 9th day of September, 1857.

As I said at that time old Central campus was but a vacant prairie; the splendid
trees which you see there now I helped to plant some sixty years ago. I was not
in school then, but hearing that a frolic was to be made of this I went down and
assisted in the planting.

I soon formed acquaintances with my Holland friends which have remained during
all these years. The cordiality, the hospitality, the sincerity of these people
has always remained with me as a delightful inspiration.

The old timers remember the stepping stones that we used to cross the streets.
Do you remember the fireworks one Fourth of July when fire accidentally got in
the packages and they shot off in all directions'? I was there and hid on the
ground behind a tree.

What a splendid lot were the members of the faculty of Old Central, in my days,
with Dr. Gunn, the president, there was Dr. Scarf, Prof. Currier, who afterwards
went to Iowa City; Mother Stoddard and Miss Mitchell, who taught the primary
department where I first entered.

What great times we had during the Lincoln-Hamlin campaign. We organized a
junior Wide Awake Club, wore capes and caps and carried a torch and halloed
[sic] for Lincoln while the older boys were in the regular Wide Awake Club. I
remember one time during that campaign when we went with wagons across to
Knoxville and took part in a parade. Then came the Civil War and the shot was
fired on Fort Sumter and what exciting times we were having in school in those
days. In our literary society we were debating in reference to the Dred Scott
decision, was slavery to be carried into the territories, was Mason and Dixon
line to be extended west to the Pacific? We were in earnest as if the fate of
the union depended on these debates. Then came the call to arms when every
able-bodied young man in Central enlisted in the war. I was but thirteen and
one-half years old and deep was my regret at the time that I could not go.

It is always a pleasure to me to speak of the splendid members of the faculty of
Central. Mother Stoddard and Dr. Scarf insisted that I stay in school but as I
had to leave the school to go into the country to work they mapped out a course
of reading and study and had me come in and make occasional recitations until I
finished my course.