68 GROVE KARL GILBERT— DAVIS [MEM0I V™xt 



Gilbert was the originator of the plan he was put in charge of the billeting. It may be doubted 

 whether the memoir of any other academician will ever contain record of so daring an exploit 

 as his, now to be narrated; indeed the "cheek" with which he had approached the Governor 

 of Ohio three years before pales in comparison with the boldfaced seductiveness that he must 

 have here displayed in the siege of several ladies much older than himself; for he had to make 

 the round of the selected neighborhood, and call at each one of the more attractive-looking 

 residences, none of which were of such quality as to set the sign, "Rooms to let," in a front 

 window; and then having presented himself as ingratiatingly as possible to the lady of the 

 house, inform her that he and two other young men of scientific occupations desired, if they 

 should prove acceptable, to become lodgers under her roof. The astonishment not infrequently 

 inclining to indignation that was exhibited by several of the matrons when thus interviewed 

 by a total stranger without a letter of introduction formed the subject of successive reports 

 of progress by the scout to his companions, and furnished them with much hilarity for several 

 days. It surely speaks volumes for Gilbert's appearance and poise that not a single absolute 

 refusal was encountered; but the lady who was finally chosen by the adventurers to be their 

 hostess — her residence was the brick dwelling house still standing at the northeast corner of 

 Eighteenth and G Streets — firmly stipulated that she must see the other partners also before 

 agreeing to house the trio for the season. So, clad in their best raiment, they made a formal 

 call, Gilbert presenting the other two; the arrangement was thereupon pronounced agreeable 

 to all concerned, and so it continued until another field season opened. At the same time a 

 boarding house was chosen on A Street between Sixth and Seventh, distant nearly 2 miles, 

 with a view of securing exercise if not appetite by walking back and forth, rain or shine, twice 

 a day. 



These good companions gave part of nearly every Sunday of their winter in Washington 

 to cross-country walks, usually with invited company. A favorite district for their rambles 

 ay beyond the Eastern Branch of the Potomac, where patches of primitive woodland then 

 alternated with small farms; it stretched southward from the end of a street-car line that 

 crossed an upstream bridge, to a line that returned by another bridge farther downstream. 

 Another route of preference led across the Potomac at Georgetown and up the southwest bank 

 of the river toward Great Falls as far as inclination prompted or as time permitted. Boating 

 on the river was also a frequent diversion; time for that was found especially in the summer 

 of 1874, which, unlike summers earlier and later, was mostly spent in Washington. For enter- 

 tainment indoors, Gilbert enjoyed playing cards and excelled at euchre and whist; and he was 

 particularly fond of inventing new and eccentric ways of playing old games. He often read 

 aloud to his intimate friends, much to their pleasure, the book being chosen for entertainment 

 rather than for information. Probably few who, in those years of long ago, knew Gilbert only 

 on the scientific side realized his inner nature to be so emotional that if, while reading aloud, 

 he came upon a pathetic passage, even his strong self-control could not wholly master tear 

 ducts and vocal chords; his eyes would overflow and his voice would choke, so that he must 

 hand the book to another to continue the story. For the same reason, while enjoying the theater, 

 he avoided distressing melodramas, as he did not like to "make a spectacle of himself" in public. 



Gilbert was known among his Washington associates of this period as a man of cheerful 

 and buoyant nature, of large vision and keen thought, modest in disposition, kind and courteous 

 in behavior. His power of unbiased observation and unprejudiced discussion was recognized 

 by his colleagues, who saw that he could attack a new problem with an open mind; that he 

 never tried to prove a preconceived theory but only to find out the truth. Although engrossed 

 in his work during working hours he was also sociably inclined, as has been told; and his 

 friends, mostly of the "scientific set," greatly enjoyed his company; for he had, apart from a 

 serious interest in serious matters, a lighter side that was shown in a cheerful manner, 

 a fund of good stories and a jovial laugh. When he cared to express himself, he was 

 simple, direct, unconventional, and outspoken; yet he had withal a quiet reserve that guarded 

 him from saying too much, a reserve that later developed into a very gracious dignity. The 

 even temper that had carried him through the many discomforts and difficulties of western 

 field work was developed into a philosophy of self-control which taught him that anger was 



