On the corner of Main and Middle streets there stood as long ago as I can remember the Plymouth Hotel, built by George Drew about 1825, and kept certainly in 1827, and perhaps earlier by James G. Gleason. I remember the hotel in 1828, when my aunt, Mrs. Gideon C. White was boarding there with her four children, while her husband was at sea in command, I think, of the ship Harvest, belonging to Barnabas Hedge. In the summer of the above year a small circus came to Plymouth and performed in a tent pitched in the stable yard on Middle street. Mrs. White’s children were going to the circus, attended by William Paty, a brother of the landlord’s wife, and I a boy of six years, was permitted by my mother to go with them. While the horses made no impression on my memory, I have a lively recollection of the monkey riding the pony’s back. Mr. Gleason, who was the third captain of the Standish Guards, kept the Plymouth Hotel until 1830, when he was succeeded by Ellis Wright, who kept it until 1834. Capt. Gleason was a portly, jovial landlord, who, I think, came to Plymouth from Middleboro and married in 1816 Lucy T., daughter of Joshua Bartlett, and second in 1820, Asenath, daughter of John Paty. He was at different times landlord of the Plymouth Hotel, hairdresser on Market street, barber on Main street, landlord of the Mansion House on the corner of Court and North streets, and a purveyor of oysters and clam chowder in various places. He was a man of humor, always ready with an answer turning the laugh away from himself. In those days the price of a common drink at the bar was four pence half penny, or six and a quarter cents, but a drink of brandy was nine pence, or twelve and a half cents. One day a stranger called at the bar for a glass of brandy and Gleason in the American fashion gave him the bottle to help himself. To the astonishment of Gleason he filled his tumbler nearly full, and with a little water, drank it with gusto, and placed on the counter a nine penny piece. Gleason gave him back four pence, half penny, and the stranger said: “I thought that brandy was nine pence.” “It is,” said Gleason, “but we sell half price by wholesale.” The stranger took the hint, and insisted on paying a quarter for the extended drink. At another time, while keeping the Mansion House, a passenger by the stage arrived for supper and left after breakfast the next morning. On calling for his bill he found the charge to be five dollars. “Good gracious” said the traveller, “I never paid such a bill as that before.” “No,” said Gleason, “and I don’t suppose you ever had the honor of stopping at the Mansion House before.” Mr. Gleason died Oct. 6, 1853.