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On the wall were certificates of membership in the Missionary Society; a picture of Maidens welcoming Washington in the Streets of Alexandria, in a frame of cucumber seeds; and an interesting document setting forth the claims of the Dunnell family as old settlers long before the separation of Maine from Massachusetts, the fact bein' established by an obituary notice reading, "In Saco, December 1791, Dorcas, daughter of Abiathar Dunnell, two months old of Fits unbaptized."
Charles N. Hewitt, M.H. Dunnell, Judge Thomas Wilson and more than two hundred others. The Park Place hotel on the corner of Summit avenue and St. Peter street, was at one time one of of the swell hotels of the city. It was a frame building, four stories high and nicely situated.
Men folks used to build some o' the houses up in a lane, or turn 'em back or side to the road, so the women folks couldn't see anythin' to keep their minds off their churnin' or dish-washin'; but Aaron Dunnell hed somethin' else to think about, 'n' that was himself, first, last, and all the time.
Her father's mother and sister were "high seat" Quakers, the latter a famous preacher. Her mother's cousin, Betsey Dunnell White, of Stafford's Hill, was noted as the only woman in that locality who could "talk politics," and the men used to come from far and near to get her opinion on the political situation.
H. Boardman Smith of the Elmira district, New York, was afterwards well known on the Supreme Bench of his State. Jeremiah Rusk of Wisconsin came with a good war record, and subsequently became Governor of his State. Mark H. Dunnell, from Minnesota, was a native of Maine, had been a member of each branch of the Maine Legislature, and for several years was Superintendent of Public Instruction.
As first the thing was a blur, a kaleidoscope of whirling colors, into which there presently crept form and order. ... A boy who had cried to get on, and was now crying to get off. ... Old Rube Hobson and his young wife; Rube looking white and scared, partly by the whizzing motion, and partly by the prospect of paying out ten cents for the doubtful pleasure. ... Pretty Hetty Dunnell with that young fellow from Portland; she too timid to mount one of the mettle-some chargers, and snuggling close to him in one of the circling seats.
"Boy or girl?" shouted the young father. "Girl!" came back the answer above the roar of the river. Whereupon Raish Dunnell steadied himself with his pick and taking a hatchet from his belt, cut a rude letter "L" on the side of the stranded log. "L's for Lucindy," he laughed. "Now you log if you git's fur as Saco, drop in to my wife's folks and tell 'em the baby's name."
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