The Wichita daily eagle., 1897-12-23

pleased, and they were talking cheerful
ly among themselves when they went
down the walk.
RECEIVING THE NEWS.
II closed the door. and went back to
and nervous than ever. There seemed to
BE feeling OF some impending calamity
| hanging over me, and when I heard
quick footsteps approaching up the
walk and then violent ring at the bell
ran to the door, feeling sure that some
thing had happened. The late caller
was Isaac Newton, commissioner OF ag-
riculture. He was deathly pale. and his
eyes glittered as though me had fever.
His voice had a sort OF strained and
hoafse sound in it as ne burted out: o.
my God, they've shot the PRESIDENT For
d few moments could say and do moth
ing. / was SO absolutely horror-stricken
| At the news that I was unable to think
| or realize the situation, or even to make
| move. Mr.. Newton stood against the
door with his hand over his eyes, and ne
was shaking and quivering with excite
nent and grief. Il must have been
nearly minute before either Of us said
anything. Then, all at once. It occurred
house should be made acquainted with
the terrible news.
II left Mr.. Newton standing at the
| door. and sprang up the front stairs.
skipping two or three of them at time
in my excitement. Fastening along the
upper corridor. came to Captain Rob-
ert Lincoln's room, the presidents eldest
son. He had not gone TO bed. and re-
member that ne had a medicine bottle in
one hand and spoon in the other. as
though he were measuring out some
medicine. and It occurred to me. even In
my excitement and grief. that he had
complained Of not feeling we1 on the
day before. / shall never forget. even
TO my dying day, the expression that
overspread his face as ! snrieged out my
fearful news. He had looked up in sur
prise as 1 burst into his room, and as I
told my ecrand ne unoonsciously let the
bottle drop from one hand and then the
spoon from the other. could say moth
ing more, but gazed in a sort Of fascina-
ton as the medicine slowly gurgled out
over the carpet. / could only thing how
thick and black it waSmy mind re-
fused to take oognizance Of anything
thing else. But the words kept ringing
through my mind in low, monotonous
song: The president is shot-the presi-
dent is Shot.'
LITTLE TAD'S GRIEF.
AFTER minute Captain Lincoln re-
covered some degree Of command and
ordered me to inform Major Hay, the
presidents military secretary-now the
ambassador to England-whose room
was further down the corridor. Well,
got down there somehow and told him
the news. 1 looked at him curiously as
brilliant color-wiich 1 had often ad-
mired, it was curiously like a beautiful
woman's-faded out so quickly that It
seemed as though some one had then
and there painted his cheek a deathiy
white. He did not talk much-only
rushed into his things and hastened
down town with Captain Robert. The
news spread like lightning. Soon every
body in the house, all the servants,
came ciowding around me, and with
them came little Tad Lincoln, the
presidents baby and the favorite of
every man. woman and child in the
White House. The little fellow-he was
only u years o4d-was half dead with
sleep and grief as he came up to me-
put his little arms around my neck, and
sobbed out in piteous tones: %, Tom
Pendel, they've killed my papaday! |
They've killed my papa-day? This was
pet name ne had given the president. |
who loved him, IL seemed TO me, better |
than aught else, and was never sa hap !
py as when he had him ON his knee.
II myself was crying with the little |
fellow before I knew it, bat ! managed |
to calm myself and carry little Tad up |
stairs to bed. He was weeping 50 bitter |
ly that l lay down on the bed with him, |
and after awhile ne sobbed himself to |
sleep within my arms. I then laid him
softly down, went down stairs again. /
and. putting on my hat and coat, left
for down town. AL that night 1 watch
ed and waited until the president
bresthed his last.
by special orders from the war de-
partment 1 was one of the special guards
appointed to accompany the funeral
train TO Springfield, where interment
was held, and the signs Of universal
woe and grief along the line impressed
me so much that 1 can remember now
each town looked as the train passed
ii. Black OF the deepest dye
was everywhere. Every village. no mat
ter how small 1t was. seemed to have
been able 10 raise money enough 10 tes-
tify TO the grief OF its inhabitants at the
universal loss. l saw tears in the eyes
OF men who could never nave seen the
presiden. but who bad known AMI judg-
ed nim by his acts and achievements.
xTorc