I think it must have been in the year 1871 that I spent a week at the White House during the presidency of General Grant. At this time my father was much in Washington to consult with the President touching the proposed annexation of the Republic of Santo Domingo to the United States. The proposal of annexation had come from the Dominican President, Baez, in the year 1869. Grant favored the plan and appointed a commission to visit the island and report to Congress upon its condition and the feeling of the people about the proposed annexation. The three Commissioners were my father, the Honorable Benjamin F. Wade of Ohio, and Andrew D. White, President of Cornell University. My father was the leading spirit of the trio, and it was he who wrote the interesting report of their investigations. I had accompanied my parents to Washington, and Mrs. Grant kindly invited me to stay at the White House, where I played happily with Nellie Grant, who was about my age. The experience was deeply interesting. Unfortunately I have preserved no notes of this visit and have only my memory to depend upon. What comes back to me was the kindness and simplicity of General Grant, the simple wholesome family life I found at the White House. Nellie was a pretty and charming girl. I have only the pleasantest memories of her. A day at Mt. Vernon was one of the interesting experiences. General Horace Porter was at that time the President’s private secretary; he was very kind in helping to arrange various expeditions which I greatly enjoyed. My clearest memory of General Grant is of one rainy evening which he passed quietly at home. He sat at a desk smoking a big cigar, and I noticed that he kept continually writing what seemed a short sentence on a series of cards which he placed in a box before him. Mrs. Grant explained to me that whenever he had a spare moment he wrote his name, so that his secretary always had a good supply of autographs to send to people who asked for them. He was very tired that night; his strong, kind, shy face showed lines of deep fatigue; faithful even in little things, he wrote card after card for the relentless autograph fiends. The honest collector is a useful person, but let all distinguished people, especially in old age, beware of the dishonest one. During my mother’s last years she was systematically “worked” for signed verses of her “Battle Hymn”, which I have since seen offered for sale. When I remember the labor with which she painfully wrote out the verses in the years when her waning strength was so precious, I grow savage against the whole sponging tribe. Shortly after my father arrived in Washington, Charles Sumner arranged a large dinner party in his honor. A few days before the dinner an invitation came for the same evening to dine at the White House. The letter was brought to my father at Mr. Sumner’s house. I remember my surprise when the great Massachusetts senator said,