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tried honestly to evaluate his life: Happiest I’ve ever been was when I explored the marshes along the Choptank. Tomorrow night it reaches Patamoke. One preachment of his mother exerted a profound influence: “You brush your teeth, you ain’t gonna lose ’em the way I donelos’ mine. the bay and cry, “Bring him back!” She was in this mood one October day in 1825, her eyes fixed on the south, when she hea

machine to reach, or one or two rows left standing down the middle, not worth the driver’s turning his huge machine around for. Immediately he changed his tone, ob­serving brightly, “Now we’re heading for Steed Creek. well, Quakers like yourselves. eld his breath as his uncle’s invention gathered speed on the Choptank, threw a monstrous wake, then raised