Meanwhile how were things going at the early home of the future statesman in New Hampshire? Judge Webster no doubt experienced satisfaction in knowing that the two sons for whom he had hoped so much, and sacrificed so much, were now possessors of a collegiate education, and in a fair way to make their own way in the world. But he was not without his anxieties. To obtain that education he had been obliged to mortgage his small estate for nearly all it was worth. He was sixty-five years of age, and a life of labor and exposure had made him old before his time. He could not look for many years more of life, and he might die before his two boys were able to support themselves by their professional labors, without speaking of taking his place at home. But he had been sustained by one hope, which finally seemed in a way of being realized. The clerk of the Court of Common Pleas, of which he was an associate judge, died. Chief Justice Farrar, knowing the family circumstances of his associate, immediately placed the office at his disposal for his son Daniel. For that day it was a lucrative office, paying much more than a judgeship. The emoluments were fifteen hundred dollars a year, and that would be a competence to a young man brought up like Daniel. It would make life easy to him, and enable him to smooth the pathway of his father, and release the homestead from mortgage. With glad heart Judge Webster wrote to Daniel of his good fortune, and Daniel on his side was elated. He felt that it would make him independent, that he would pay off the family debt, and assist his brother Ezekiel. So, full of the good news, he went over to the office in the morning, and with a beaming face acquainted Mr. Gore with the offer he had received, and then waited to receive his congratulations. “Well, my young friend,” said he, “the gentlemen have been very kind to you; I am glad of it. You must thank them for it. Certainly they are very good; you must write them a civil letter. You will write immediately, of course.” [Illustration: “_Will you carry us across on your back?_”—Page 286.] “I feel their kindness and liberality very deeply,” answered Daniel. “I shall certainly thank them in the best manner I am able, but, as I shall go to Salisbury so soon, I hardly think it is necessary to write.” “Why,” said Mr. Gore, seeming greatly surprised, “you surely don’t mean to accept it?” Daniel was astounded. Not to accept such a magnificent proposal! As soon as he could speak he said that he had no thought of anything else but acceptance.