Pleasant Chat With Mrs. Lippincott

1 was greatly interested in listening to some of Mrs. Lippincott's reminiscences the other afternoon. We were talking in her pleasant apartment on West Thirty-fourth street, New York. She was showing me a scrap book which her mother made of newspaper clippings about Grace Greenwood. The personalities of those days are very amusing to read now. With their stately language, their rhetoric, they are entirely different from the flippant and familiar paragrapha of today. "In those days," said Mrs. Lippincott, "it was an unnsnal thing for a woman to write. We were blue stockings then. How often did people say to me, 'Well, my dear, this writing may be amusing to you; you may enjoy it, but you know it will in jure your chances of getting a husband.' That was the main object of woman's existence then. I was the first woman newspaper correspondent. No, I was not the first woman journalist - Margaret Fuller and Lydia Maria Child were before me - but my Washington correspondence inaugnrated a new departure." Mrs. Lippincott intends to make Washington her home for the future, and when once settled there to begin to make her recollections, which certainly will be instructive and of great interest. The lady's hair is quite gray. She is stout and motherly looking. The quaint, old fashioned portrait of herself when a yonng wornan shows a lovely face lighted by great hazel eyes, and many of the curious persuualities and poerns written to and abüut her speak of her beautifnl hands and aims. Mrs. Lippincott's time is alinost entirely given over to charitable work, hunting out the poor and needy and ministering to their wants. Her daughter, who studied for the stage and who was forced to retire from it temporarily on account of ill health, lives with her. She is a fair girl with a serioue and