PROF. LUCIAN HUNT, A. M. 131
capped Collins kept a whiskey distillery, of which, however, it was said he was himself the most generous patronizer. Hedgehogs were plenty, and during a thunder storm rabbits would occasionally rush into the house for protection, and bears were sometimes unpleasantly familiar. Lucian once had the privilege of a distinct view of one of large size which was standing on the top of the ledge, and which, after quietly surveying for some time the house and grounds below, passed down the nearer side of the hill into the woods. He also remembers how the family cow broke through the floor of the log house (then used as a barn) into the cellar, requiring the united force of the colony to raise her again to upper air. A wide scar on his head still forcibly reminds him of a scythe which fell from the attic, point downward, plump into his skull, hardly missing, so the doctor said, splitting the head in two. Nor does he forget the big whipping he received for obstinately refusing to read the alphabet during his first week in school.
Anthony Hunt was noted in those days for great physical strength, and through life for almost perfect health, he never having been confined a day by ill health till his last sickness. His stock of books was scanty, of course, yet, as the best read man of that region, he was selected to deliver the oration of a Fourth of July celebration, then and for years after famous in the traditions of the town.
The settlement seemed to flourish for a time, but what with hard labor, few and distant markets, the want of the necessaries — to say nothing of the luxuries — of life, discouragement crept in, and one by one the settlers sought other homes, Parker Chase, senior, leading off, until Mr. Hunt and family were left alone. He struggled manfully a few years longer, but finally yielded like the rest and removed to Cabot; whence, after having passed seventeen years in Vermont, he returned to Sanbornton. Thus ended the Sanbornton hegira. Not a house, no memento, except the old cellars scattered over what is now a broad pasture, remains to tell of the once bustling little New Hampshire colony of Woodbury, Vt.
Lucian Hunt, the subject of this sketch, eagerly availed himself of the superior advantages for acquiring an education afforded by his residence at Sanbornton Bridge. Since his earliest years he had been an insatiable reader. Nothing in the shape of book or newspaper came amiss. And his teachers, fortunately, were persons who could appreciate and give a proper direction to this trait of his. He commenced the study of Latin under the instruction of Rev. Enoch Corser, formerly one of the Boanerges of the New Hampshire pulpit, who, had he been bred a lawyer, instead of confining his efforts within the bounds of a small country parish, vwould have made his mark in the nation, and as a possible Member of Congress, have ranked as the peer of Benton, whom he somewhat resembled; Dix, who was also his pupil in Latin; Cass, and others of that class.
Boscawen may well be proud of its great men. Indeed, there is a district eight or ten miles square, embracing the old town of Boscawen and Salisbury, that, we believe, has a right to boast of having produced more talent than any other equal extent of territory and population in the United States. There were the Rev. Caleb Burbank; C. C. Coffin, the author; Rev. N. C. Coffin; several of the Corser family, either native or of the Boscawen stock; Hon. Moody Currier; Governor Dix; Senator Pitt Fessenden; Nathaniel and Charles Greene, journalists; Henry, Jacob and Arthur Little, all {sc|d. d.}}'s; Prof. Shepherd; Master S. C. Stone, of the Sherwin School, Boston, an offshoot from the Corser stock; Prof. Justin H, Smith, one of the five who have obtained perfect marks in Dartmouth College, and a fine mathematician; Judge Atkinson; Missionaries French and Pinkerton; President Bartlett, of Dartmouth, and his brother, Rev. Joseph,
