echanical pursuits and in the
improvement of his mind by a desultory course of reading, and in
perfecting himself in the knowledge of the Latin language.

In 1852, Mr. Jones purchased a half interest in the _Cecil Whig_ and
became the editor of that journal for a short time, and until its
founder P.C. Ricketts, who was then editing the _Daily News_, of
Baltimore, returned from that city and resumed the duties of editor of
the _Whig_.

In 1853, Mr. Jones commenced the study of the law in the office of John
C. Groome, Esq., in Elkton and was admitted to the Bar, September 21,
1855.

In politics Mr. Jones was a Whig, but allied himself with the American
party when it was in course of formation and continued to be an active
member as long as the party lasted. In 1857 he was appointed State's
Attorney for Cecil county, to fill a vacancy, and in 1859 was elected to
the same office for the term of four years. At the outbreak of the war
of the rebellion Mr. Jones allied himself with the Union cause and was
elected to the House of Delegates by the Union party in 1863, and was
appointed two years afterwards, United States' District Attorney for the
district of Maryland, and held the office for about a year, and until he
was removed by President Andrew Johnson for opposing his policy of
reconstruction. In 1858 he married Miss Mary Jane Smith, of Connecticut.
They are the parents of one son and two daughters, the eldest of whom is
the wife of Rev. Walter E. Avery, of the Wilmington Conference.

Mr. Jones is one of the most earnest and successful members of the
Elkton Bar, and though not a voluminous writer, in early life
contributed poetry to the columns of the _Cecil Whig_, of which the
following poems are specimens.

AUTUMN.

The autumn winds are moaning round
And through the branches sighing,
And autumn leaves upon the ground
All seared and dead are lying.

The summer flowers have ceased to bloom
For autumn frosts have blighted,
And laid them in a cheerless tomb
By summer sun unlighted.

Thus all our "fondest hopes decay"
Beneath the chill of sorrow,
The joys that brightest seem to-day
Are withered by the morrow.

But there are flowers that bloom enshrin'd
In hearts by love united,
Unscathed by the autumn wind,
By autumn frost unblighted.

And there are hearts that ever thrill
With friendship warm and glowing,
And joys unseared by sorrow's chill
With hallowed truth o'erflowing.