heard your father, my uncle Daniel, Joe Eveleth, and James Holcomb (I think) sing glees, &c., a hundred times with my mother accompanying them on the piano." The subject of this sketch used to tell how his father, a genial, lovable man, fond of good stories, but stern and strict in all things relating to the statutes of the Lord, used to cut the New York Observer in two on Sunday morning; the "secular department"-most inoffensive reading was carefully laid away, not to be read until Monday - when no

one cared for it!

The first event that had come down vividly in the boy's memory was the presence of President Polk in Augusta on Saturday July 3, 1847. As the procession passed he stood on the curb, perhaps with a neighboring boy, Joe Manley, whom he very early stimulated to activity in the school room by a pin. Manley afterward rose to state fame as a politician. To this foreshadowing of Mr. Stanwood's permanent interests might be added his early training in the Bible. His Sunday school lessons at this time consisted almost entirely of memorizing the Gospels and the Acts of the Apostles. He remembered all his life the chapters of the Bible and the poems which he committed to memory in these school days.

These were the years when geography, which the youthful Edward loved, was recited in song as the teacher pointed to rivers and cities on a wall map. At one recitation the boy raised his hand and said that the teacher had made a mistake. The teacher brought the pointer round like a scythe and hit him over the ear, raising a red welt. The next day the teacher apologized before the class.

In the high school which he entered at the age of eleven he laid the foundations of Latin and Greek grammar, which made him a master in these subjects through life. He once said: "The greatest usefulness of the study of ancient languages is the acquisition of accuracy," and accurate he was to the end. He never forgot nor ceased to appreciate his teachers, and it was to one of them - Frederic A. Deane whom he aided in making out the scholars' weekly reports, that he owed the gift of Milton's Poems from which he "learned to drink deep at the well of English undefiled.”

While he was attending the high school, Mr. Blaine, then a teacher in the South, visited Mrs. Blaine's aunt Sally, and Edward was invited to stand between his knees to be quizzed in Latin. His association with the Blaines continued throughout his career.

In college he exhibited some of his father's genial traits, knowing all his own class and every member of the three classes above and the three below him. Here he first met the Hon. Thomas B. Reed, whose sharp tongue stirred him to anger but never clouded the close friendship of a life time. The college was a hotbed of politics, and the tastes of Edward, the college student, were either formed or greatly intensified while future senators, as well as the sons of living senators, were discussing the great questions of the day. He did not join the dominant Republican group but followed his father into the camp of the Douglas Democrats, becoming secretary of the Douglas Club at Bowdoin.

The door to journalism opened for him at the age of sixteen when, on the first Monday in January, 1858, he began to report the proceedings of the Maine House of Representatives for the Age, an Augusta weekly. From his reporter's desk he looked into the faces of Eugene Hale, Neal Dow and other budding statesmen during the winters of 1858, '59 and '60. During these years he wrote for two Democratic newspapers, one in Lewiston, the other in Kingfield, Maine. From 1862 until he left Augusta he reported the doings of the senate for the Kennebec Journal, meanwhile acting as unofficial coach to inexperienced presiding officers from day to day. The youthful reporter stored his memory with anecdotes of the Maine political leaders of this period, and in old age he loved to sit by the fire, recounting the incidents of these years.

As Edward's entire expenses for the four years at Bowdoin College-exclusive of clothing did not reach $500, the $100 a session paid to a reporter materially lightened the cost of his college course. This work no doubt reduced his scholarship rank, but the friendships which he formed lasted until he passed away. He graduated in 1861. Why he never essayed to enter politics is difficult to explain, for his