I changed or rather left Mrs. Andrews and went ... to Professor Ten Brook's. I like it so well at the Prof's that I have remained there since. Lest you should be unwilling, or perhaps fearful for my health, I would say that the Prof. has kindly offered me his horse to use every morning or as much as I please. A ride on horseback is exceeding good exercise. Especially when a horse is as hard to ride as the Prof's is wont to be. Do you recollect a sorrel steed you sold to Mr. Dan Stowell? Prof's horse's movements are just about as _convenient_ as that one's were. My objection to boarding at a public boarding house, is, that no regard is paid to the rules of politeness and _good_ manners. Every one for himself, is the motto. Not so in a private family. Mrs. Ten Brook is a very accomplished lady and the Prof. is not much behind her in that respect. They set a _good_ table, not a very _rich_ one, but rather a plain one. In the morning, Buckwheat pancakes and maple molasses, besides potatoes and sausage. At noon, 'steak,' sometimes fish. The professor charges 12 shillings for board. I like _him_ of all the Prof's, the best.
What would a student nowadays think of a menu like that for $1.50 a week?
The first boarding club was established in 1860 in the house, not far from the ancient "Cat-Hole," of one Mrs. O'Toole, "a pretty good all-round cook, whose forte was apple dumplings" served daily. The steward was Charles Kendall Adams, '61, while other members were Walter W. Perry and Byron M. Cutcheon of the class of 1861 and Martin L. D'Ooge of the class of 1862.
Recreation was not a part of the earlier curriculum and athletics were unknown under that name, though feats of strength, jumping, lifting dumb-bells, the heavier the better, and foot-races, were common. Perhaps that woodyard and the favorite games of one-old-cat and wicket, a modification of cricket, were sufficient substitutes, occasionally varied by a fishing trip on the Huron or a walk to Ypsilanti, whenever the necessary permission from the authorities to leave Ann Arbor was forthcoming. Social opportunities came largely through the relations of the students with the townspeople and their lovely daughters, particularly at the popular church socials. Many of the brightest and most beautiful local belles came from "lower town," or north Ann Arbor, a most important section at that time,--some even lived nearly a mile beyond the old long bridge at the foot of Broadway hill. To them the new students were invariably introduced; the wise ones surrendering all rights, so that when the social was over, it was only natural for the new men to ask for the privilege of escorting them home; something of an ordeal on a winter night. The old wooden viaduct over the tracks was known in those days as the "Bridge of Sighs."