This voting power of Dennis was particularly valuable at the quarterly meetings of the proprietors of the Naguadavick Ferry.  My wife inherited from her father some shares in that enterprise, which is not yet fully developed, though it doubtless will become a very valuable property.  The law of Maine then forbade stockholders to appear by proxy at such meetings.  Polly disliked to go, not being, in fact, a “hens’-rights hen,” transferred her stock to me.  I, after going once, disliked it more than she.  But Dennis went to the next meeting, and liked it very much.  He said the arm-chairs were good, the collation good, and the free rides to stockholders pleasant.  He was a little frightened when they first took him upon one of the ferry-boats, but after two or three quarterly meetings he became quite brave.

Thus far I never had any difficulty with him.  Indeed, being, as I implied, of that type which is called shiftless, he was only too happy to be told daily what to do, and to be charged not to be forthputting or in any way original in his discharge of that duty.  He learned, however, to discriminate between the lines of his life, and very much preferred these stockholders’ meetings and trustees’ dinners and Commencement collations to another set of occasions, from which he used to beg off most piteously.  Our excellent brother, Dr. Fillmore, had taken a notion at this time that our Sandemanian churches needed more expression of mutual sympathy.  He insisted upon it that we were remiss.  He said, that, if the Bishop came to preach at Naguadavick, all the Episcopal clergy of the neighborhood were present; if Dr. Pond came, all the Congregational clergymen turned out to hear him; if Dr. Nichols, all the Unitarians; and he thought we owed it to each other, that, whenever there was an occasional service at a Sandemanian church, the other brethren should all, if possible, attend.  “It looked well,” if nothing more.  Now this really meant that I had not been to hear one of Dr. Fillmore’s lectures on the Ethnology of Religion.  He forgot that he did not hear one of my course on the “Sandemanianism of Anselm.”  But I felt badly when he said it; and afterwards I always made Dennis go to hear all the brethren preach, when I was not preaching myself.  This was what he took exceptions to,—­the only thing, as I said, which he ever did except to.  Now came the advantage of his long morning-nap, and of the green tea with which Polly supplied the kitchen.  But he would plead, so humbly, to be let off, only from one or two!  I never excepted him, however.  I knew the lectures were of value, and I thought it best he should be able to keep the connection.