The two friends reached the house, and Remsen led the way into his room, and set about unpacking his things.
Remsen came back and stood at the other end of the long desk.
He tried to strike me one day at practice, and Remsen, our coach, put him off.
We lay in front of Mr. Remsen's door, inside of the pier head and not more that 20 yards distant.
Remsen touched his cap, looked between the chestnut's ears, and took refuge in vernacularity.
