Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1885-06-03
A Letter from Maryland.
A VISIT TO WASHINGTON CITY, &c.
RoXBURY, MD.


Mr.. EDITOR I'm these days of quick
transportation and excursion tickets an ac-
count of a visit to Washington is as "twice
told tale' to many of your readers, though
possibly there are some who will be inter-
ested in even an uninteresting description of
some of the sights and scenes of the Ma
tion's Capitol.
A delightful drive of twenty-five miles,
as the crow flies, through the beautiful
county of Montgomery, landed US at the
Howard House, where we were unexpect-
edly jored by two gentlemen friends, much
to the relief of the only male representative
of the party, who, imagine, was uneasy
lest we should be mistaken for a delegation
from Utah.
A visit to the Smithsonian was first on
our programme. Our memory of the inte-
riol is a commingling of beasts, birds, and
reptiles, of Chinese brides and cute little
Japanese babies, of beautiful palms and
splashing fountains, ofthe "Red man of the
forest" and specimens of his handiwork, of
stones and minerals,-in short, of almost
everything the imagination can conceive
| Distinct from this chaos, perhaps because
| first seen, is q clear impression of the me-
mentoes there deposited of the ''Father of
his country" The suit worn when he re-
signed his commission at Annapolis, his old
arm chair, his camp equipage, his dining
room service. How we coveted just one
piece of the old china We looked in vain
for the little hatchet we suppose he lost
it,-no, not he, man never loses hatchet
or hat it's his wife, "his sisters, or his
cousins or his aunts." Do any of your la
dy readers recall demand in tones of San
guish wild'' for that 'hatchet, always lost
when l want it ." Do they remember the
| ell
during which every member of the family
rush frantically in search and finally find it
Just where he left it?
Did they ever mildly intimate that they
hoped he would try next time to remember
where he put the hatchet, and did he ever
| remember?
A description Of Washington, with no
reference to the capitol, would indeed be
''Hamlet with Hamlet left out" Of the
| building itself, however, of the magnificent
painting and sculpture, the brvnze doors,
the vast rooms, l cannot tell you. leave
that to other and to ADLER pens.
The view from the dome cannot be sur
passed The beautiful grounds around the
capitol, the streets teeming with life pedes-
trians, steam cars, street cars vehicles of
every description now carefully winding
their way through the avenues, now
WulIllIS tuIOuSu Guc SQudIcS HlltQ Will
trees and flowers and singing birds, so beau
tiful, so still, that one easily imagines him
self far from the busy haunts of men, and
beyond, ''the Potomac flowing silently on to
the sea-"
We were reminded while on the dome of
a remark we heard the night before by
countrymen as he patiently followed the
porter up flight after flight of stairs ''Well,
| am higher up in the world than ever l
was before" think one of our party re-
allied by the time he climbed down, that
he had been higher than he ever desired to
be again.
We were particularly struck by the ab-
sence of the beautiful faces seen on every
square .of Baltimore. Washington may
have pretty girls, but we did not see them.
My advice to all ladies who are disposed to
be dissatisfied with their personal appear
ance, is to visit Washington, and my word
for it, they will go home feeling decidedly
comforted.
We drove through the grounds of the
White House, but want of time forbade our
stopping to pay our respects to its inmates,
more to our regret, l fear, than theirs. To
the monument, to various other places of
interest, and last of all to the Art Gallery.
One of the figures which attracted my at
tention there was that of the eloquent wes-
tern chieftain, Tecumseh. He lies just as
he was slain, his tomahawk, always raised
against the white man, now lies forever
harmless grasped in his nerveless hand,
the death mark in his forehead, the death
look in his face as plainly depicted as it ev
er was on that of corpse.
| Another face which haunts me like a
dream is that of young girl peeping
through the bars of prison. Snch sweet
sad face. There is no guilt in it; only
hopeless despair, unutterable misery.
As we returned we found vegetation
much revived by the timely showers. The
wheat of this section is looking remarkably
well considering the hard winter and con-
tinued drought. 1t is hoped it will yield
two-thrds of an average crop. Corn, too,
is coming up nicely, and farmers are re-
.jolcing that the clouds have ''rolled by"
N. NJ. d.