The Potomac and Rappahannock 



shade ! But fate denied him the bliss of that old armchair invitingly 

 placed beneath its spreading boughs and the longed-for companion- 

 ship of his own adored family, except on rare occasions. 



When the Government appealed to patriotic Americans for cer- 

 tain woods to be used in the construction of ships during the World 

 War, this walnut tree was generously offered by Mrs. Coghill, and 

 her offer was accepted. Fortunately, however, when the inspector 

 came to see if it was available, he was so struck with its magnificence 

 that he recommended that it be held in reserve for a last call. The 

 signing of the Armistice shortly after that saved the old tree from 

 being commandeered. 



Beyond the walnut tree is the old flower garden, radiant still 

 with old-time favorites. In the fresh, sweet spring of the year, 

 snowballs, lilacs, peonies, tulips, violets and jonquils vie with each 

 other in perfection of bloom. And then when summer comes, 

 geraniums, verbenas, phlox, mignonette. Everywhere, and during 

 all the blossoming season, nearly all seasons, roses scent the air with 

 their sweet fragrance. 



The old plank fence in the rear, and the locust trees, half dead 

 with age, support the strong and vigorous trumpet flower. The 

 long serpentine brick-paved path, with its carpet of moss, which 

 leads to the old kitchen of other days, adds a mellow note to the 

 harmony of the garden, which, in the summer of today, is a joy 

 to all who behold it. 



In a lecture delivered at the laying of the cornerstone for the 

 Maury monument in Richmond, Professor A. B. Chandler said: 

 "He belonged to that very small circle of consummate masters in 

 the field of research to whom every advanced nation is largely in- 

 debted for its present expanded commercial life His work 



was not local but universal; not transient, but permanent; not bene- 

 fiting a few, but all the earth. ... He is, in truth, the father 

 of the science of meteorology, and has been so recognized in all 

 the world, save his native land. . . . Born within ten miles of 



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