AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A PENNSYLVANIAN
“Do you know that he was counsel against me in the United States Senate?”
“Yes, I do. But, after all, he was only counsel. He is a true-hearted man and will be as faithful as steel. You and I can both depend upon him and that means much.”
Penrose, Durham and George T. Oliver all came to me to protest, the last named leaving me with the statement that he felt sure I would agree with them and select Rogers. Finally Quay said to me:
“Do you feel that you are able to give assurance for Carson?”
“Entirely.”
“Well then, that will make other changes necessary. Fuller ought to be Secretary of the Commonwealth.” I assented. Then I said:
“There was a man here the other day from Johnstown named Shumaker who pleased me.”
“He will do very well.”
And so were the chief appointments determined.
I wrote my inaugural address without consultation with anybody and sent a copy to Quay alone. He replied, saying that it was a statesmanlike document, suggesting no additions and only one omission upon the ground that the subject was rather one of detail than proper for such a paper. I struck this matter from the address.
January 19, 1903, Mrs. Pennypacker and I, with our three daughters, closed the house at 1540 North Fifteenth Street in Philadelphia, took a street car to the station of the Pennsylvania Railroad, where I bought tickets and checked the baggage for Harrisburg and that night we spent in the Executive Mansion. That mansion was to me never anything more than a temporary abiding place. There was not a single feature about it which had the slightest attractiveness for me. All over it were the manifestations of great outlay, awkwardness and bad taste. There was not a print or a book or a piece of furniture which indicated the thought
