Plymouth memories of an octogenarianDavis, William T. (William Thomas)
History
Plymouth memories of an octogenarian
Davis, William T. (William Thomas)
Plymouth (Mass.) -- History
Before crossing Town Brook I must speak of Joseph P. Brown and Wm. H.
Nelson, though they are not associated with the remote history of our
town. Mr. Brown was the son of Lemuel Brown, and was born December
12, 1812. His father was a cabinet maker who came to Plymouth with a
wife, Sarah Palmer of Cambridge, and established himself in business
with a shop in the rear of the house next west of the present
residence of the Misses Rich on Summer street. He did good work,
and I know many mahogany chairs of his workmanship still doing good
service in the parlors of some of my friends. His two sons, Stephen
P. and Joseph P., learned the trade of their father, and in later
years carried on business on the south side of High street, and in
the building, a part of which is occupied by the provision market
of C. B. Harlow on Market street. At a still later time Joseph P.
carried on the same business in the old Plymouth bank building on
Court street. Joseph was on the board of selectmen with me from 1856
to 1860, inclusive, and I am glad of the opportunity to attest his
usefulness and fidelity in the management of town affairs. He was
a man of dry humor, and had many a story to tell, often provoking
a laugh against himself. He chewed tobacco freely, and was obliged
before speaking to deliver himself of the saliva which had been
accumulating. I remember that one autumn afternoon when the board had
been visiting the south end of the town, we stopped at the house of
David Clark, a member of the board, to leave him, and went into the
house to warm ourselves. As we sat around the wood fire I noticed
a couple of herrings roasting in the ashes for supper. Before Mr.
Brown could answer a question I put to him he was obliged to relieve
his mouth of its contents, and he discharged them squarely upon the
herrings, completely covering them. Nothing was said, and I did not
suppose that any one but myself noticed the catastrophe. After we had
started for home, Mr. Brown turning to me said, “Good heavens, Davis,
did you see me baste those herrings?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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