rica in 1830, and he was educated at Illinois
and Oberlin colleges. He began his geological work with a series of
field trips including a trip throughout the length of the Mississippi in
a rowboat, the length of the Ohio, and of the Illinois. When the Civil
War broke out he entered the Union Army as a private, and at the battle
of Shiloh he lost his right arm but continued in active service,
reaching the rank of major of volunteers. In 1865 he was appointed
professor of geology and curator of the museum in the Illinois Wesleyan
university at Bloomington, and afterwards at the Normal university.

In 1867 he commenced a series of expeditions to the Rocky Mountains and
the canyons of the Green and Colorado rivers, during the course of which
(1869) he made a daring boat-journey of three months through the Grand
Canyon; he also made a special study of the Indians and their languages
for the Smithsonian Institution, in which he founded and directed a
bureau of ethnology. His able work led to the establishment under the U.
S. Government of the geographical and geological survey of the Rocky
Mountain region with which he was occupied from 1870 to 1879. This
survey was incorporated with the United States geological and
geographical survey in 1879, when Powell became director of the bureau
of ethnology. In 1881, Powell was appointed director also of the
geological survey, a post which he occupied until 1894. He died in
Haven, Me., on Sept. 23, 1902."

On two panes of glass in the front windows of this old house are names
etched by a diamond--on one is "Genevieve Powell," under it "Louis Hill"
and under that "1884." She probably was the daughter of Mr. Powell.

On the other pane of glass is etched "Moses and Mary." To the owners of
the house that means nothing, but to me it means "Moses Moore," who was
not a man but a woman (whose real name was "Frank"), and Mary Compton,
both of whom I knew and still know.

In the nineties it was for awhile the home of Mrs. Donna Otie Compton,
who was the daughter of Bishop James Hervey Otie, first Episcopal Bishop
of Tennessee. She was a picturesque figure, attired in her widow's cap
and long crepe veil. Mrs. Compton had four daughters who were great
belles.

Then for a good many years it stood there looking quite deserted, for
old Mr. Arnold, its owner, was almost a cripple and one rarely saw him
making his way up the street with great difficulty. Now General and Mrs.
Frank R. McCoy have b