uffs to the Capitol, perched on a high hill a full mile away.
This street, wide and sandy, was in the cradle days badly paved, but rather closely built up. Nor was the Capitol a peculiarly stately pile, either in size or architectural effect.
Still it dominated the lesser structures, as it stared down the street with quite a Roman rigor.
The staff upon its dome bore the flag of the new nation, run up there shortly after the Congress met by the hands of a noted daughter of Virginia.
Miss Letitia Tyler was not only a representative of proud Old Dominion blood, but was also granddaughter of the ex-President of the United States, whose eldest son, Robert, lived in the new Capital.
All Montgomery had flocked to Capitol Hill in holiday attire; bells rang and cannon boomed, and the throng-including all members of the government-stood bareheaded as the fair Virginian threw that flag to the breeze.
Then a poet-priest — who later added the sword to the quill-spoke a solemn benediction on