Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1882-12-18
An Interesting Woman

An Interesting Woman.
AN ABLE VASsAR PROFESSOR ENTERTAINS CON-
PANY AT BREAKFAST.
At half past eight of June morning, saws q
writer in the HOmdn's Journal the pleasure of
our company was requested at the Vassar OBJ
servatory by Prof. Maria Mitchell We knew
her love of mathematical accuracy, and at half
past eight precisely We assembled the observatory
steps. Here we were met and Hospitality well
coined by our hostess. She is woman in the
sixties, with distinguished face, whose strong
lines are softened by her beautiful white hair.
Her dress and manners have in them the men,
DRY Of the Quaker panness into which she was
born. For nearly twenty years Maria Mitchell
has been the presiding genius of the vassar
observatory, and with every June, as regular
as commencement day itself, has come the
" dome party - for the students of her depart
ment. One never finds her in finer mood than
when hostess of the dome.
First and foremost, Maria Mitchell Is an inter-
esting woman-original, stimulating Her racy
talk is free from cant or cOnventonality. and
often gives the listener an electric shock. Her
spirited salutation imparts the impulse to con-
versatiOn. Her surroundings are at once the
chief topics of our talk. The parlor in which we
find ourselves is curiously divided between
society and science. Behind the railing at one
end stand the chrOnOgraph ana the solemn side
real clock. Between them, In tie vine-framed
window. Is bust of Mary SOmerville. presented
to Vassar college by Frances Power Cobbe. Two
tall book cases contain friendly crowd of books
from Leplace's Mecdnique Celeste to the lest
volume of LOngfellow. Here is a picture of
Humboldt In his study, there some astronomical
cups and saucers, each adorned with an astrono-
mer's portrait The vines in the windows sway
gently in the still June morning. On one side
We look down into quaint little garden, with
a suggestion of the old world seepiness and
quiet. Here grew the first roses and the last
chrysanthemums. From the opposite window we
see broad rolling lawns, and beyond the distant
Catskills.
But the last guest has arrived, and breakfast
is announced We form In line, precedence
being regulated by the years of graduation. Up
flight OF steps, through heavy baiZe doors and
We are in the dome itself. Over our heads the
great equatorial telescope points silently heaven
ward, itselfa work as marvellous as the wondersit
reveals. The tables are set in circle round the
dome. At each plate is a rosebud, card with
the name of the guest and tiny photograph of
the observatory.
shall always believe that strawberries have
the flavor of new variety when eaten with
surroundings SO unique, and that the chicken
crOquetteS could have been furnished by no COM
mon barnyard fowl And yet the essence of a
dome breakfast Is not that which tfckies the
palate in any literal sense. 1t is when the plates
are removed that the dome party really begins.
large basket is now passed, from which each
draws a poem addressed to some one of the
company. These are read aloud, much to the
merriment of the party; for each con-
tains q highly relished personal hit
Some small class room event, some
pet taste or iistaste is the butt of the poet The
verses are, for the most part, written by Prof
Mitchell herself who has an easy rllyming pen.
Many are the mathematical and astronomical
illusions For once poetry and science seemed
to have joined hands. Some Of the best jingles
are set to familiar tunes and sung by an Inn
promptu choir perched on the movable obsery-
tory stairs.