"I must go down to the Census Office to hold a scrub-woman in her place," said a Western Congressman to me. He added: "Let me tell you about her. She does not belong to my State, but you will not be surprised that I propose to hold her in her poor place, which brings $20 per month, when I explain her case. She is the widow of a regular army officer. Her husband in the Civil War was twice promoted for personal bravery. His native town presented him with a sword as a tribute of his courage. His widow scrubs floors along with colored people, and his only daughter does menial service twelve hours a day in the printing-office. Of course the widow is too old for a Civil Service place, and that is the best I can do for her. She has no G. A. R. influence, her husband was so long a regular that she has no State back of her. I am glad to do what I can."

Not long ago the beauty of a country town, let us say of Texas, was brought to Washington for a place. Her Congressman's quota of positions was full; he knew, however, of one place which was ably filled by a Southern woman who came here with President Johnson's family as instructor for his grandchildren. President Johnson had, before leaving, secured her a place in a department, and now the Texan asked her official head in the interest of the beauty. The girl was bright, flippant, and loud. She used her first month's wages to obtain a red velvet dress cut square in the neck to show her white, firm skin. She did her work fairly well, but one day people in her department heard a scream, and they also heard some one getting a severe slapping of the face amid cries of "I have a big brother in Texas, and it will take him only two days to get here, and he'll beat the life out of you!" etc.

A shamefaced clerk was seen to emerge from the room. When the others rushed in they found the girl in a dead faint which was followed by hysterics. Then the women said, "Aha! you got what you deserved with your red dress, your loud manners, and flippant talk."

The girl replied, "Well, I think you should have had the decency to tell me that before, if my dress and manners exposed me to insult. You will see, I shall learn." Sure enough, the girl did learn to dress quietly, and is now an efficient, decorous helper.

The wife of one of the new-rich, who have come to Washington to spend their money in social life, was being taken through the Census Department when they had on the full force of several thousand. Looking over that crowd, every one of the intellectual rank of a first-class teacher, she said: "Ah! I see now what makes servants so very scarce in Washington!" Each one of these classed as of the rank of servants had passed an entrance examination which her ladyship could not have stood, even if her life had depended upon it.

One of the peculiar features of department life is that it seems to dry up the milk of human kindness. A man will move heaven and earth to get a high situation under the government, then when others ask from him less than he has asked of his friends, the applicant is made to feel like a beggar. He is advised to go home and tend to his own affairs—which may be very good advice, but comes with bad grace from a government official.

I knew a man from the South, the editor of a religious paper, the most important man in the county, who came to Washington to ask for the post-office of his own town. His credentials had the endorsement of every bank, every business house, every preacher, doctor, and teacher in his town. He was permitted to get as near headquarters as the Fourth Assistant Postmaster, where he was told Senator Blank would have that appointment. The Senator appointed a Catholic in that town where there are not over forty Catholics, and where a Lutheran College alone gets more mail than the entire Catholic population. The new man was a person non grata to the entire town, but the Senator had paid a campaign debt.

Every person in Washington knows the sad life story of a famous Washington woman—though it will be fifty years before the full details can be publicly told—daughter of a distinguished Western Senator, the Secretary of the Treasury and Chief Justice of the United States, the loved wife of a New England Senator, who was divorced, and then began a downward course, ending in ruin alike to her fortune and prestige, which had best remain untold for this generation of readers.

Older people will remember that one of Grant's Cabinet was forced to resign because of fraud in the War Department. Valuable contracts were let, and the wife of this official, totally unknown to her husband, took thousands of dollars for her influence in securing these contracts. At last trouble was threatened. Congress appointed a committee to investigate. The night before the exposure madame attended a great ball at one of the legations. The French Minister said: "I have been in most of the courts of Europe; I have never seen any one, not even queens, better dressed than madame." She wore a dress literally covered with point-lace, a point-lace fan, and more than $40,000 worth of diamonds.

Three Congressmen present knew what the next day would reveal. On that day the Secretary was called before the committee. They soon saw that he knew nothing about the matter. Madame heard what was going on and suddenly appeared before the committee. She threw herself on her knees before them and entreated shelter from disgrace.

The Secretary resigned at once. He sacrificed his entire property to pay back the fraudulent money. He opened a law office in Washington, but soon after died; of course, people said he died of a broken heart. Madame went abroad at once, and did not return till after her husband's death. She now conducts a house in Washington where men and women lose their souls in gambling or worse.