they found they had no small change to pay their fare, so
Martha said: "Never mind, I have a cousin in a store near here. He will
change our money or lend us some." They went to him and she introduced
my father to my mother!

This was the old Vanderwerken omnibus that ran along Bridge (M) Street
and Pennsylvania Avenue, which became the Capital Traction Company, and
now the Capital Transit Company.

I have often heard my mother tell of how the Southern girls would not
walk under the Stars and Stripes hanging out from the hospital in the
Seminary. They would cross to the other side of the street, and when the
Union officers passed, they held aside their skirts. She has also
described to me how the city was hung with black when Abraham Lincoln
was killed.

Mr. Redin bequeathed his house to his only unmarried daughter,
Catherine. She married later, and sold the house in 1873 and regretted
it bitterly, to such an extent that she went into melancholia and
committed suicide by taking poison. For a while it was Miss Lipscomb's
School for Young Ladies, then it was bought by John D. Smoot, and his
family lived there many years.

In 1915 Colonel W. E. P. French purchased the property. He leased it
during the World War I to Honorable Newton D. Baker, then Secretary of
War. At that time Georgetown had hardly begun to be fashionable again,
and on first coming to Washington and hunting for a house, Mrs. Baker
told a friend she was discouraged trying to find one with a yard where
her three children could play, and that she thought they would have to
go to Fort Myer. The friend answered in a tone of deep commiseration,
"Too bad! You will have to pass through Georgetown!"

Another anecdote of somewhat the same tone was told me by an old lady
who has lived all her life in one of the loveliest old Georgetown
houses. Many years ago, while the street cars were still drawn by
horses, she was in a car sitting opposite two women, one of whom was
pointing out the sights to the other. They passed Dupont Circle, where
she showed the Leiter house, etc., and as they crossed P Street Bridge,
she said, "Now we are coming into Georgetown where nobody lives but
colored people and a few white people who can't get away."

On the next block east is a little house, entirely changed now, which
used to be very quaint in its appearance when it was covered with white
plaster and approached by a sort of causeway from the sidewalk. It had
belonged to Henr