Washington, D.C.
Sun., Dec. 22, 1925
Yesterday morning I planned to go to the Walter Reed Hospital to visit the Occupational Therapy Department where I had worked during the war when Bill was in France. Before going I called Peggy Beckwith, who summers in Manchester, Vt., as my family does. She invited me to meet her at the Corcoran Art Gallery, have lunch with her, after which she would drive me to the hospital. Hating to remind her that it would then be Saturday afternoon and the O.T. Department closed, I succumbed to her invitation.
At the Corcoran we saw some fine portraits of Laszlo and then were driven in her grandfather's Rolls Royce by chauffeur to the Freer Gallery, where we enjoyed pastels by Whistler in the Peacock Room. Peggy's home, where we lunched, is a fascinating two-story white house with green shutters and fir trees on either side of the front door-like a Christmas card. Being one of the oldest houses in Georgetown, it has a passageway to the Potomac, used, they say, by freed slaves in "underground railroad" days. When Peggy drove us in her own gray Franklin roadster to the Walter Reed, where, as I had imagined, all occupational therapy was over for the week. Although we had a swell day and it was interesting to visit the hospital, I missed my sentimental reminiscing of the O.T. Department.
Bill spends hours at the patent office and is excited about all that he is learning. However, living in Washington costs too much for us to stay long.
We had a charming dinner and a second visit with the Bells one night, and on another dined with Peggy Beckwith and her mother. Most every other evening we have met Rainey, had supper and gone to the movies with him, as he is a great movie fan. On several visits to the House and Senate we enjoyed hearing the arguments of the "gentlemen," but one day it was more like a cockfight--anything but "gentlemanly" or dignified. We have also spent quite a time in the Congressional Library, looking at engravings, lithographs, old government documents and portraits. I was much entertained by some cartoons of the Civil War period.
My Christmas shopping is done--cards written, bundles wrapped, and nearly all mailed.