a
duplicate at once."

My other uncle, John Sewall Sanborn, graduated at Dartmouth, and after
studying law, he started for a career in Canada, landed in Sherbrooke,
P.Q., with the traditional fifty cents in his pocket, and began to
practise law. Soon acquiring a fine practice, he married the
strikingly handsome daughter of Mr. Brooks, the most important man in
that region, and rose to a position on the Queen's Bench. He was
twelve years in Parliament, and later a "Mr. Justice," corresponding
with a member of our Federal Supreme Court. In fact, he had received
every possible honour at his death except knighthood, which he was
soon to have received.

My great-grandfather, on the paternal side, was always called
"Grandsir Hook," and Dr. Crosby assured me that I inherited my fat,
fun, and asthma from that obese person, weighing nearly three hundred
pounds. When he died a slice had to be cut off, not from his body, but
from the side of the house, to let the coffin squeeze through. I
visited his grave with father. It was an immense elevation even at so
remote a date. David Sanborn married his daughter Hannah Hook, after
a formal courtship. The "love" letters to "Honoured Madam" are still
preserved. Fortunately the "honoured madam" had inherited the sense of
humour.

A few words about Mr. Daniel Webster. I remember going to Marshfield
with my mother, his niece, and sitting on his knee while he looked
over his large morning mail, throwing the greater part into the waste
basket. Also in the dining-room I can still recall the delicious meals
prepared by an old-time Southern mammy, who wore her red and yellow
turban regally. The capital jokes by his son Fletcher and guests
sometimes caused the dignified and impressive butler to rapidly
dart behind the large screen to laugh, then soon back to duty,
imperturbable as before.

The large library occupied one ell of the house, with its high ceiling
running in points to a finish. There hung the strong portraits of Lord
Ashburton and Mr. Webster. At the top of his own picture at the right
hung his large grey slouch hat, so well known. In the next room the
silhouette of his mother, and underneath it his words, "My excellent
mother." Also a portrait of Grace Fletcher, his first wife, and of his
son Edward in uniform. Edward was killed in the Mexican War.

There is a general impression that Mr. Webster was a heavy drinker
and often under the influence of liquor when he rose to speak;