bble of
the Credit Mobilier" in 1873, by Henry D. Cooke. It was in this house
that the ball took place. Can't you picture the coaches as they rolled
up to the door, discharging the ladies in their crinolines, laces,
satins, and flowers, attended by the gentlemen wrapped in the long
cloaks of that period? Kate Chase Sprague was in the height of her
beauty and power at that time and was, of course, among the guests on
that fateful night.

Mr. Cooke was the first governor of the District of Columbia when that
new form of municipal government was begun, to last through only three
terms. There were twelve children in the Cooke family then living in
this house. They were ardent members of St. John's Church--the font
there being in memory of one little son. Mr. Cooke built Grace Church,
the little gray stone church down below the canal near High Street
(Wisconsin Avenue). It was intended for the canal people of whom there
were many at that time.

Governor Cooke bought a great deal of property and built four sets of
twin houses along the north side of Stoddert (Q) Street, which were
called, until a few years ago, Cooke Row. In Number One, near Washington
(30th) Street, lived one family of his descendants, one of whom, a young
man, played the piano very well. In Number Three, lived Mrs. Shepherd
from Philadelphia, a widow, who had one son. He was the first person I
ever knew to commit suicide. It was a terrible shock to the town when we
heard one morning that he had shot himself the night before. It was not
such a common event in the nineties as nowadays.

In one of these houses lived Commodore Nicholson, and in another lived
Admiral Radford, whose lovely daughter, Sophy, became the bride of
Valdemar de Meisner, secretary of the Russian Legation. In Number Four,
lived Mrs. Zola Green with her daughter and her two sisters, named
Pyle--one of them was called Miss "Chit-Chat." Mr. Green, who was a
descendant of Uriah Forrest, had been given the name of Oceola after the
Indian Chief who had saved the life of his father years ago out West.

At Number Five Cooke Row, now 3021 Q Street, lived during the nineties,
Dr. Walter Reed, of the United States Army, whose name is honored by
being given to the huge General Hospital in Washington because of his
association with the discovery of the cause of yellow fever. I recall a
most delightful party at the Reeds on St. Valentine night in 1899, given
for friends of their son. When the invit