Our only and original gravedigger, manager in general of village
affairs.

After the death of a physician, his wife gave a stained-glass window
to the Episcopal Church of St. Luke, the beloved physician. She asked
Jason if he liked it. He said, "It don't strike me as a particular
speaking likeness of Dr. Tom."

To one of the new professors who ventured to make a few suggestions,
"Who be yaou anyway?"

He enjoyed buttonholing people he met in our "graveyard" and pointing
out where they "must shortly lie."

Our landlord--who that ever saw Horace Frary could forget him? If a
mother came to Hanover to see her boy on the 2.30 P.M. train, no meal
could be obtained. He would stand at the front door and explain,
"Dinner is over long ago." He cared personally for about thirty oil
lamps each day, trimmed the wicks with his fingers, and then wiped
them on his trousers. Also did the carving standing at the table and
cleaning the dull knife on the same right side--so the effect was
startling. One day when he had been ill for a short time his wife
said: "Dr. Dixi Crosby is coming this way now, I'll call him in."
"Don't let him in now," he begged, "why d---- it, I'm _sick_!"

I must not omit the strictly veracious witness who was sworn to
testify how many students were engaged in a noisy night frolic at
Norwich. "As fur as I know, there was betwixt six and seven."

"Webb Hall," who today would figure as a "down and out," made many