Until within five or six years a house stood on the easterly side of the Russell house, which during my boyhood was occupied by Daniel Jackson until 1834, and by Isaac Tribble until 1846, both of whom have already been noticed. In 1846 it was bought by Anthony Morse, who occupied it until his death. Mr. Morse was born in Gloucester in 1795, and was the son of Humphrey and Lydia (Parsons) Morse of that city. He came to Plymouth when a young man, and learned the trade of rope making, working a number of years in the rope walk extending from the gardens of the North street houses along the rear of the Court street lots to Howland street, and afterwards in the works of the Robbins Cordage Company. At a later time he was an assistant in the store of Samuel Robbins on Market street, and still later he kept a grocery store a short time on his own account. He was an ardent whig, and during political campaigns he rendered valuable service to his party by setting up a reading room, collecting campaign funds, and making sure of the appearance of whig voters at the polls. Colonel John B. Thomas was the general adviser of the party, and no measures were adopted without his approval. One election morning Col. Thomas was awaked before daylight by a loud rapping at his door. Opening the window and asking what was the matter, Morse appeared out of the darkness and called out, “C-Co-Colonel, rains like h-hell, shall I engage all the h-horses?” The Colonel said Yes, and went back to bed. As a reward for his party services he was appointed Deputy Collector in 1841. Mr. Morse married in 1837 Nancy, widow of Branch Johnson, and daughter of William Atwood, and had Charles P., 1830, who kept an apothecary’s shop some years at the corner of Court and North streets, and later in the house of his father, to which he succeeded. Mr. Morse was a man of the strictest integrity, and conscientiousness was the most marked feature in his character. He possessed a morbid conscience which kept him in constant fear that he might be suspected of dishonesty. He was a director of the Plymouth Bank from 1844 to 1858, and he told me once that on one occasion when the cashier left him during a temporary absence to keep the Bank he found a twenty dollar bill behind a chair on the floor. I found it impossible to convince him that it had not been placed there to test his honesty. The morbid state of his mind intensified with age, and he committed suicide April 19, 1858.