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The river was as lovely as the Bay of Spezia, and from its bed and shores the canvas-back and red-head plucked the wild celery and fattened. Fish, terrapin and oysters abounded, and the mint luxuriated. The Eastern Shore of Maryland was then as now the garden spot and sunny side of creation.

Before the hour of parting two songs were always sung, “Sportsman Hall” and “The Bottle,” the former sent by The Beef Steak Club of London to one of the above named gentlemen. I could give the words, rich and rare, left me by my father, but delicacy forbids; both are exquisite double entendres fit to sing before kings, but not before queens.

There was a school at Otwell, taught by John Singleton and —— Garrick, two fine belles-lettres scholars, to which came the Robins from Job’s Content, Tilghmans from Plimhimmon, Chamberlains from Bondfield, Haskins from Canterbury Manor, Morrises and Collisters from Oxford. John Singleton’s sister was the mother of the eminent portrait painter, John Singleton Copley, who on a visit to his Uncle at Otwell with his former preceptor, Smibert, made portraits of Anne Francis, James Tilghman, Matthew Tilghman and his wife, nee Annie Lloyd, whilst spending Christmas there.

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