Just above number 1239 is the crook in High Street (Wisconsin Avenue) and, until a few years ago, I never knew why it was that way: actually, it follows the line of the grant of the Rock of Dumbarton, which was surveyed that way. The reason the streets on the west side of High Street (Wisconsin Avenue) don't match those on the east side is because they were laid out by different owners. Just about here is the Aged Woman's Home, standing high above the street. It was founded in 1868 with a gift of $15,000 from Mr. W. W. Corcoran. It houses fourteen women. In all these years there have been only three Presidents of the Board: Mrs. Beverley Kennon, Miss Emily Nourse, and the present one, Mrs. Louis Freeman. The back part of the house is what is left of the home of John Lutz, who had a good deal of land around his house when he built it nearly two hundred years ago. In days gone by, the Aged Woman's Home was partly supported by contributions collected by women who were members of the Benevolent Society, who went from door to door with a book in which amounts to be given were subscribed. On the southeast corner of High Street (Wisconsin Avenue) and Gay (N) Street, just above here has been conducted, since 1861, the grocery business of H. W. Fisher and Son, first was the grandfather, known as Henry, whom I remember, with a long grey beard; then his son of the same name, known as Wellen, and now his son, Henry. I am told by an old resident that the first telephone in Georgetown was in the Fisher's store, as it is known, and that when people wanted to phone, they went there and used it. I was fed from Fisher's all my young life, and I imagine my father was one of their best customers, as he had eleven children and multitudes of relatives in Maryland and Virginia, who came to stay whenever they wished to visit Washington City. So you can rather imagine the consternation of the elder Mr. Fisher when, one hot afternoon, as he was clearing out his crate of tomatoes just before closing time and, as was the custom in those long ago days, picked up a large, over-ripe one and threw it out, as he supposed into the gutter, that, instead, it landed on the stiff "boiled shirt" bosom of Mr. George T. Dunlop! I never knew of this occurrence until I was told of it many years after by Mr. Wellen Fisher, who said his father always said it never made any difference to Mr. Dunlop. On the other side of High Street (Wisconsin Avenue), coming up from Bridge (M) Street, on the corner was the hardware store of Edward M. Linthicum; later Henry Addison had a dry goods store there. A little farther up, in the nineties, was Joe Schladt's, the saloon of the Town. We all knew about it, but, of course, no lady ever entered it. There were, however, three or four very well-known gentlemen who entered it very frequently, and had a good deal of difficulty reaching their homes every evening.