, lived all her life. After her death, it was
sold and somebody put two old lamp-posts at the foot of the entrance
steps with gas flickering in them continuously--and now there is a story
around that they were "always" there, and some foolishness about the
lights "never had gone out" or "must never go out."

Across the street, where the Stoddert Apartment now is, used to be an
old house, in appearance quite like the one of Judge Chapman's on
Dumbarton Avenue and Congress (31st) Street, except for the long, side
porches. Here lived in the seventies and eighties General Henry Hayes
Lockwood and his family. His son, James Lockwood, accompanied General
Greeley on his trip to the North Pole, and was lost there in the Arctic,
holding the record at that time of having reached farthest North.

A block south, on the northeast corner of Greene (29th) and West (P)
Streets, is where Alexander Hamilton Dodge lived, who was a partner with
his brother, Francis, in the shipping business. He was the father of
Colonel Harrison H. Dodge.

In the days when his children were young, he had a big Newfoundland dog
which he had raised from a puppy. One rarely sees one now, as tall and
as big as a half-grown calf, with a coat of wonderful black, curly hair.
Such pets used to be quite popular, but only once in forty years have I
run across another. The Dodge's dog was named Argus. So strong and
docile was he that two children could ride him at the same time. He
loved the children, took them to school, and gave them "lifts" over wet
or muddy ground. Do you remember "Nana," in _Peter Pan_? She was a
Newfoundland dog--just so she nursed her master's children. Returning
from escort duty in the morning, a locked container was fastened to his
collar and he would be given the word "office," which was enough. Off
he'd go, proudly bearing luncheon to his master, who, in return, would
send back to the family the daily mail (no postmen to deliver in those
days), perfectly confident of its reaching its destination safely, as
everybody knew the big dog, and also that he would resent any attempt to
stop him or take things from him.

One day the cook complained to Mr. Dodge that somebody had evidently
been robbing the hen's nests, as she was getting fewer eggs than usual.
Mr. Dodge, going to investigate, met Argus coming down the path from the
barn wagging his tail majestically, as was his wont when approaching his
master. Mr. Dodge stopped and held out his