Far away in the offing might have been seen a jolly “iron-clad” who is well known in Washington society as the gallant Secretary of the Navy. No telescope was necessary to see him cruising about, with his main-sail handsomely squared, and his jib-boom set in the right direction. All at once he changes his course and bears down upon a modest little craft that seems entirely unaware of danger. Ugh! it is all over! No lives lost! They have bespoken each other on the wild waters of conversation, and each hurries forward to a different port.
One of the most distinguished women who paid her respects to Mrs. Grant, and honored the large assembly, was Mrs. Jessie Benton Fremont, the better part of the great “Pathfinder,” of Pacific Railroad fame. General Fremont may have found a great many wonders in his terrific exploration, but the best thing he ever did find is “Jessie,” and if he is ever crowned with immortal bays, it will be because in their youth they ran away. Although Mrs. Fremont is below the average height of her countrywomen, she has a royal presence and a queenly face. Neither paint, powder, nor any other artifice of the age conceals or enhances the mischief time has wrought with her features, and her head is crowned with an abundance of snowy hair, but her countenance is lighted up by a pair of brilliant eyes, and the dimples that enchanted the “Pathfinder” still remain.
How shall we manage to get space in _The Press_ to describe the wives of Congress? Every adjective and adverb in the dictionary might be used and the work not then be accomplished. One most noticeable fact in relation to the receptions of the winter is the wearing of last year’s costumes. Very few new dresses are seen, and black silk was worn by nine-tenths of the ladies who went to Mrs. Grant’s reception. A very few trains were seen, but walking-dresses were the rule and long dresses the exception. A great many hats were worn, but the most elegant toilettes were finished by bonnets. Mrs. Hunter, wife of the Major-General, wore a black silk dress and a white satin bonnet; and Mrs. Cresswell, wife of the Postmaster General, wore the usual habiliments of the season. It will be noticed that the taste of American women is becoming more chaste and refined. Visiting suits are sombre; rich high colors are reserved for the evening. But more of this anon.