CHAPTER XXXIII.

THE GREAT CASII-ROOM-THE WATCHI-DOG OF THE

TREASURY.

No Need for Dirty Money-The Flowers of July-Money Affairs-The Great Cash-Room-Its Marble Glories-A Glance Inside-The Beautiful Walls-A Good Deal of Very Bad Taste-Only Made of Plaster-The Clerks of the Cash-Room-New Money for Old-The National Treasury "The Watch-Dog" of the Treasury-The Custodian of the Cash-A Broken-nosed Pitcher-Ink for the Autographs-His Ancient Chair"The General "—" Crooked, Crotchety and Great-hearted"—" Principles" and Pantaloons--Below the Surface-An Unpaintable Face-An Object of Personal Curiosity-Dick and Dolly pay the General a VisitHow the Thing is Done-" Pretty Thoroughly Wrought Up "--A Couple without any Claims-Gratified in the Very Jolliest Fashion-Getting his Autograph-A Specimen for the Folks at Home-Realizing a Responsibility-Where the Treasurer Sleeps-Going the Round at Night-Making Assurance Sure-Awakened by a Strong Impression-SleeplessIn the "Small Hours "-Finding the Door Open-A Careless Clerk-The Care of Eight Hundred Millions-On the Alert-The Secretary's Room -Three at the Table-Doings and Duties-The Labors of the Secretary and Comptrollers-The Auditors-The Solicitor's Office-The LightHouse Board-The Coast Survey-Internal Revenue Department.

OBODY need ever carry a smutty bit of money in Washington. Lay down the worst looking fraction you ever saw, upon the marble counter of the Cash-Room, and a virgin piece, without blemish, will be given you in its stead. Do you wish ten unsoiled "ones" for that ragged "ten" of yours? Take it to the Cash-Room, and the desire of your heart will be granted in a moment.

To do this you turn out of Pennsylvania avenue towards

the north front of the Treasury. On either side, spread away broad beds of flowers. In April, their hyacinths sent great drifts of fragrance, blocks away; in May, it was one great garden of roses, and now it has burst into a passion of bloom, a very carnival of color-the burning scarlet of the geraniums mocking the dazzling azure of the sky. On either side run these lavish hues. Before you, cooling the marble court beneath your feet, the great fountain tosses its spray. Toward you stretches the long restful shadow of the northern portico, inviting you to enter in.

If your visit means "money," as it may, you pass directly through the portico to the Cash-Room, into which it opens. No other room in the world as magnificent is devoted to such a purpose. It is seventy-two feet long, thirty-two feet wide, and twenty-seven feet six inches high. Exclusive of the upper cornice, the walls are built entirely of marble. Seven varieties meet and merge into each other, to make the harmony of its blended hues. From the main floor it rises through two stories of the building. Thus it has upper and lower windows, between which a narrow bronze gallery runs, encircling the entire room. The base of the stylobate of the first story is black Vermont marble, the mouldings are Bardiglio Italian, the styles dove Vermont marble, the panels Sienna Italian, and the dies Tennessee. Above the stylobate, the styles are of Sienna marble. With these are contrasted the pale primrose tints of the Corinthian pilasters and a cornice of white-veined Italian marble. Opposite the windows, and in corresponding positions at the ends of the rooms, are panels of the dark-veined Bardiglio Italian marble, the exact size of the windows.

THE

WATCH-DOG" OF THE TREASURY.

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The stylobate and the styles and pilasters of the second story show the same tints and variety of marbles which mark the first. But the panels are of Sarran Golum marble, from the Pyrenees. The latter is one of the rarest of marbles; at a distance, of a blood-red hue. Upon nearer inspection, it reveals undreamed-of beauties in veining and tint.

The pilasters of the second story are not like those of the first story, pure-but complex. They support a cornice, not of wrought marble, as all the remainder of the room would promise, but of plaster of Paris, fantastically wrought and profusely gilded. This cornice is another blot of that meretricious ornamentation which in so many noble spaces disfigures the Capitol.

Extending the length of the room is a costly counter, of various marbles, surmounted by a balustrade of mahogany and plate-glass. Within this are busy the clerks of the Cash-Room, and over this marble counter you, as one of its many proprietors, may receive, for the asking, ten ones for one 66 ten "-new money for old.

66

From this superb room of the people we pass to that of the Treasurer," the watch-dog of the Treasury,"the man who holds and guards the untold millions of the nation. It is a plain room, very. No thought of luxury, it is easy to see, has touched an article of its furniture, from his well-worn chair to the broken-nosed pitcher which holds the General's ink; that ink, thick as mud and black as Egyptian night, out of which he constructs these marvellous hieroglyphics, which, on our legal-tender notes, has become one of the most baffling studies of the nation.

"The General!" That's his name, from the roof to

the cellar of the vast Treasury; crooked, crotchety, greathearted; nobody swears so loud, or is so generous, or just, as "the General." Every afflicted soul, from the women, poor and old, who stand by the printing-presses under the scorching roof, to Mary Walker, whose devotion to "her principles," in the form of a pair of hideous little pantaloons, causes her justly to shed tubs of tears,— all are sure of a hearing, and of redress, if possible, from "the General." IIis face is as astonishing as his signature. It is a Lincolnian face in this, that its best expression can never be transferred to a picture. In life it is rugged, ugly at first glance, genial at the second. The eyes twinkle with humor and kindness; the wide mouth shuts tight with wilfulness and determination; the whole expression and presence of the man indicate energy, honesty, and power.

General Spinner is an object of personal curiosity to all sight-seers who visit Washington. Dick and Dolly having puzzled their eyes for an hour, studying some fresh legal tender note, to discover by what process of evolution and convolution the remarkable signature which it bears is fashioned, when they came to the Capital, proceeded to the Treasury to see, not only the man who makes it, but how he makes it. Bluff, and even snappish at first approach, after a little wilful snarling, our General subsides into the most amiable of mastifls. He is an exception to the official class, in his hate of exclusiveness and his never-failing accessibility. Indeed, he would have far less to irritate him, if he made himself more unapproachable and remote. As it is, all sorts of tormenting people, finding it perfectly easy to "get at him," do not neglect the privilege, and altogether keep

GENERAL SPINNER'S AUTOGRAPH.

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him pretty thoroughly "wrought up" with their neverending and perpetually conflicting woes. Dicky and Dolly, fresh from their farm, who ask for no "place" in any "division" whatever, who have no alert grievance grumbling for redress, who wish for nothing but, "Please, sir, will you just show us how you make it-that queer are sure to be gratified in the very jolliest fashion. The General stabs the old pen with three points down into the pudding-like ink which sticks to the bottom of the broken-nosed pitcher, and proceeds to pile it up in ridiculous little heaps at cross angles on a bit of paper. The result of his "piling," which Dick and Dolly watch with breathless interest, is his signature, which our happy friends bear off in triumph to show to the "folks at home." "Yes, sir, the autograph of the Treasurer of the United States! and we saw him make it, we did! A queer lookin' man, but good as pic, I can tell you; has a feelin' for folks, as if he wasn't no better than them, if he does take care of all the money of the United States Treasury, which, I tell you, is a heap!"

The taking care of this money is a mighty responsibility, which General Spinner realizes to the utmost. From his small room in the Treasury, a door opens into a still smaller one. In this little room, beneath the mighty roof of the Treasury, the keeper of its millions sleeps. Before he essays to do this, twice every night the guardian of the people's treasure goes himself to the money vault, and, with his own hand upon their handles, assures himself beyond doubt that the nation's money safes are inviolably locked.

In order that he may do this every night before he attempts to sleep, and that he may never be beyond call in