times, I
regret to say, to receive some well-deserved admonitions.
But the interview always ended in an inquiry after my father
and some jolly, or at least kindly utterance about myself.
One of my classmates gave an account in rhyme of one of these
interviews which I wish I could repeat. I can only remember
two lines:

Quin deigned a grin, perforce,
And Hoar a roar, of course.

He died in 1864 at the age of ninety-two, preserving to the
last his mental vigor and his ardent interest in public affairs.
During the darkest period of the War he never lost his hope
or faith. He fell on the ice and broke his hip a little while
before his death. He was treated by the somewhat savage
method of the surgery of the time. Dr. George E. Ellis,
from whom I had the story, went to see him one day at his
house on Park Street and found the old man lying on his bed
with a weight hanging from his foot, which projected over
the bed, to keep the bones in their place and the muscles
from contracting. He said to Mr. Quincy's daughter: "You
have been shut up here a long time. Now go and take a walk
round the Common and let me stay with your father." Miss Quincy
went out and the old man kept Dr. Ellis so full of interest
by his cheerful and lively talk that he never once thought
to ask him how he was getting along. When Miss Quincy returned,
he took his leave and had got downstairs when the omission
occurred to him. He went back to the chamber and said to
Mr. Quincy: "I forgot to ask you how your leg is." The old
fellow brought his hand down with a slap upon the limb and
said: "Damn the leg. I want to see this business settled."

When Felton was inaugurated as President, Gov. Banks in performing
his part of the ceremony of presenting the charter and the
keys to the new officer alluded in his somewhat grandiloquent
way to four of Felton's predecessors, Everett, Sparks, Walker
and Quincy, who were upon the stage. Speaking of Quincy he
said: "He would be reckoned among honorable men, though their
number were reduced to that of the mouths of the Nile or the
gates of Thebes."

Felton, the Greek professor, was the heartiest and jolliest
of men. He was certainly one of the best examples of a fully
rounded scholarship which this country or perhaps any country
ever produced. He gave before the Lowell Institute a course
of lectures on Greece Ancient and Modern, into which is compressed
learning enough to fill a large encyclop