these eulogiums, I know not; but they appear to have been well deserved.
In 1842 and the year following, Friend Hopper
travelled more than usual.
In August 1842, he visited his native place, after an absence of twenty years. He and his wife were accompanied from Philadelphia
by his son Edward and his daughter Sarah H. Palmer
Of course, the haunts of his boyhood had undergone many changes.
Panther's Bridge had disappeared, and Rabbit Swamp and Turkey Causeway no longer looked like the same places.
He visited his father's house, then occupied by strangers, and found the ruins of his great-grandfather's dwelling.
Down by the pleasant old creek, shaded with large walnut trees and cedars, stood the tombs of many of his relatives; and at Woodbury
were the graves of his father and mother, and the parents of his wife.
Every spot had something interesting to say of the past.
His eyes brightened, and his tongue became voluble with a thousand memories.
Had I been present to listen to him then, I should doubtless have been enabled to add considerably to my stock of early anecdotes.
He seemed to have brought away from this visit a peculiarly vivid recollection of ‘poor crazy Joe Gibson
This demented being was sometimes easily controlled, and willing to be useful; at other times, he was perfectly furious and ungovernable.
Few people knew how to manage