, Edward, lived on in the home until
his death when Mrs. Frances Isabella Dodge took it, had it remodeled
somewhat, and entertained there a great deal. After her death it was
bought by her stepson, of course also her nephew, Henry Henley Dodge,
and I myself remember going to lovely parties given by his children in
the big, old rooms.

The house was pulled down about 1900 and a row of brick houses built in
its place. It was a handsome house, facing on Dumbarton Avenue, painted
a greenish tan, with long porches running along the back building
overlooking the yard which extended back to Christ Church. In this yard
were two very handsome trees, one a horse chestnut and one a magnolia.
It was enclosed by an iron fence, one of the kind despised and pulled
down in the nineties, and now being eagerly sought and replaced in doing
over old houses.

[Illustration: HOME OF JUDGE HENRY HENLEY CHAPMAN]

There is a delicious story of how, in the long ago, when all five of the
daughters were still at home, a wandering cow got in at the gate, and at
four o'clock in the morning (I hope it was the summer time) Aunt Peggy
Davidson roused all the girls to go out and get the beast out of the
garden. An old colored man was passing, delivering milk, and was heard
to exclaim, "Good Gawd, Mis' Chapman's yard is full of ghoses!"

Immediately across from this house stood, and still stands, the old
Berry house. It, too, shows how it was hoisted above the street when its
level was changed. It was built by Philip Taylor Berry in the early
1800's and no other family had ever lived there until his last daughters
died, ripe in years.

There were four of them, all old maids (Georgetown had five or six
houses of four old maids in my childhood). These were in two sets, but
the two older ones far outlived the two younger, who were always very
retiring and delicate. When the last two were up in their nineties,
being bed-ridden, one on one floor, the other on another, each with a
nurse, they used to send messages to each other and exchange the novels
which they read over and over again. At last, one night in the winter,
the old house caught on fire and when the firemen got there it was so
far under way that both old ladies had to be carried down ladders to the
street, quite a perilous trip, which they both survived, however, and
lived for several years thereafter.

The two older sisters were descendants of John Stoddert Haw; the two
younger, of Samuel