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During the winter I was engaged to teach a district school, and for three months managed to keep tolerably sober that is, I did not get drunk more than three or four times, and then on Saturday nights and Sundays. One Sunday it was the coldest day that winter I went to Falmouth and visited a drinking place kept by one McPhillipps. While there I drank eleven glasses of whisky.
At nine o'clock in the evening, I can indistinctly remember, I mounted my horse and started home, and from that moment until the next day I knew nothing whatever that took place. From the way I was bruised and battered I judge that I must have struck almost every fence corner between McPhillipps' place and home.
Quit college Shattered nerves Summer and autumn days Improvement Picnic parties A fall An untimely storm Crawford's beer and ale Beer brawls County fairs and their influence on my life My yoke of white oxen The "red ribbon" "One McPhillipps" How I got home and how I found myself in the morning My mother's agony A day of teaching under difficulties Quiet again Law studies at Connersville "Out on a spree" What a spree means.
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