JUDGE
was handling a large practice with great ability and rapidly coming to the front at the bar, and he said to me:
“Why do you not make an effort for that vacancy? The bench would suit your tastes and you are just the man fitted for it.”
I made no effort then, but the suggestion bore fruit. A. Wilson Norris, with whom I had become acquainted in the Grand Army, who had become State Reporter and Auditor General, who had been instrumental in securing the appointment of Fell to the bench and who had come to me professionally in an important matter concerning the interests of his brother, a physician, had an office in association with Samuel Gustine Thompson. I broached the subject to him. Said he:
“I will talk to Quay and see what he thinks.”
Some time later he reported that Quay said, “It suits me.”
Up to this time I had only met Mr. Quay once or twice in my life, and then in the most casual way. But there were these ties between us—Major Patrick Anderson, of the Revolutionary Army, had three wives. By the second he had a son, Isaac, who was my great-grandfather. By the third he had a daughter, who was Quay's grandmother. Joseph Quay was unthrifty and died, leaving his wife penniless and with a family of small children. In those days the dependent were not sent to homes and hospitals, and the obligations which come with relationship were recognized as duties to be performed, and one of the orphans was taken into the home of my Grandfather Pennypacker to be raised. I have always felt assured that the interest Quay took in my welfare and the warmth of feeling he displayed toward me was due, not to the relationship, which was too remote to affect conduct, but to the act of kindness on the part of my grandfather. It is creditable to him that he did not forget and that he should endeavor to repay. All of my public conduct had
