ANCESTRY
she saw him come down the stairs and inquired “who can that handsome young doctor be?” When it came to me this story had lasted sixty years. Everybody liked him. The women named their boy babies after him. This was due to a kindly disposition which led him to take an interest in all around him and to endeavor to aid them. Thomas Adamson, United States Consul to Panama, the Sandwich Islands and Melbourne, Australia, told me that once when he was a little boy playing along Nutt's Road, at the Corner Stores, my father drove by in a buggy. Seated beside him was a dark-browed swarthy man who had come from the Valley Forge. My father stopped and called: “Come over here, Thomas!” The boy hung his head but went. “I want to introduce you to Daniel Webster.” Adamson said the incident made an impression which affected his whole career. My father had a gift of speech and made many public addresses—upon education, temperance, medicine and politics. He was ambitious. He was a capable physician, quick to see and decisive in action. A man met with what threatened to be a fatal accident. My father bought a big knife in a near store and cut the man's leg off while my mother steadied the limb. A boy, fishing, caught the hook in his nose and a young physician worried over him in vain. My father chanced to come along and with a sudden twist jerked the hook out while the boy screamed. He bled, and pulled teeth, and prescribed calomel, jalap and flowers of sulphur. In my younger days I have seen setons, moxas, cups and leeches. He was fond of having his hair combed and his skin rubbed. He smoked cigars to excess.
On the 9th of May, 1839, he married Anna Maria Whitaker, born March 23, 1815. She had black eyes and black hair and as she grew older became stout. Hers was a resolute character. Her life was one of devotion to her children. Left with four of them under thirteen years of age, she took care of them and refused to marry again.
