This was my first entrance into fashionable life at one of Madame Bodisco's birthnight balls. I was under the care of Senator ----. As we entered the house, two tall specimens of humanity, dressed very much like militia generals, in scarlet coats trimmed with gold lace and white trousers, met us at the door. Thinking them distinguished people, I bowed low and solemnly. They stared and bowed. "Go on," said the Senator, "don't be so polite to those fellows, they are servants; give them your cloak." I hurried in pulling off my cloak as I went. Just within the first door of the drawing room stood a fat, oily little gentleman, bowing also, but not so magnificently gotten up as my first acquaintances. Certain of my game now, I, in superb style, threw over him my cloak and hurried on. Senator ---- pulled me back, and to the astonished little fellow now struggling from under my broadcloth, I was presented. I had nearly smothered the Russian Minister who, however, laughed merrily at the mistake. He hardly knew what I would accomplish next, and left me as soon as he possibly could, to my fate. I wandered about rather disconsolate. The lights, music, dancing, fun and laughter, were all novelties and charming for a while, but I knew no one after an hour's looking on, hunted up the Senator and begged him to introduce me to some of the young ladies. He hesitated a moment, and then consented, and I was led up to and presented to a magnificent creature I had long looked upon with silent admiration. Miss Gennie Williams, who was seated in an easy, nonchalant manner, conversing with a circle of gentlemen, and favored me with a gracious nod. As I stood wondering whether this was the end of my introduction, a mustached dandy came between us and said, "Miss Williams, permit me to relate the joke of the season." To my horror he began the story of the cloak. My first impulse was to knock him down, my second to run away; on my third I acted. Interrupting the recital I said: "Begging your pardon, sir, but Miss Williams, I am the only person who can do justice to that joke," and continuing, I related it without in any way sparing myself. She laughed heartily, as did the circle, and rising from her chair, took my arm, saying kindly that I must be cared for or I would murder some one. With a grace and kindness I shall never forget, she placed me at my ease. Next door to this house, at one time, lived Hamilton Bronaugh. Just across the street, the big red brick Victorian house is where James Roosevelt and his family were living in his father's first administration. Around the corner on Frederick (34th) Street, the house which has a walled garden on the corner was the home of John G. Winant, when he was here before going as Ambassador to the Court of St. James.