Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1924-02-04

DR.. Grayson. his friend and physi-
! clan, annouccd he end of the great
! war president in this bulletin: MIR.
Wilson died at HIS o'clock. His
: hearts action became feebler and
feebler, and the heart muscle was so
fatigued that it refused to act any
longer. The end came peacefully.
THE remote causes of death lie in
his ill-hcalth which began more than
four years ago. namely: general ar
/ terio- sclerosis with hacmopligia. The
immediate cause of death was eE-
haustion following a digestive dis
turbance which began in the early
morning hours of February J."
Death in Offing Years
Last Friday the grim reaper had
forced his way into the hou after
| waiting on tho doorstep more than
four years. Saturday ho had adj
| vanced to the landing on the stair
case. and stood counting off the ticks
of the great clock. Saturday night
he Knocked on the chamber door. A
faithful physician and a loyal wife
stood with their backs against it..
At nine O'Clock he ratified the knob
| and called to the peaceful. PROSTATE
figure on the bed. great bed. long
and wide. a replica Of the bed in
which Abraham Lincoln slept in the
White House, with n golden Amcri-
can eagle and u tiny silk American
flag just over the head board. The
At the portal of the door now open.
Trn1 Mt hnx-nrnd
Wife at Bedside
On the he'd sitting beside her hus-
band, sustained with all the fort:tude
and Composure of n woman facing
crisis. was Mrs. Wilson, holding | G.
tween her hands the wan. withered
right hand that had proved the pen
mightier than the sword. Near the
food of the bed was his eldest daugh-
ter. Margaret. resigned to the in
evitable. Close by. tears yelling
from his eyes. and coursing down his
checks. was Doctor GraySon. taking
the measure of the fluttering pulses.
weaker and fainter with each effort.
Death advanced and beckoned for
the last time. The tired, worn out
man drew n long breath. there was n
slight flutter of the ayelids, an al
most imperceptible twitch of the nos
triis.
Woodrow Wilson's soul had drifted
out on the great dark tide that runs
around the world.
Pastors Refer TO Him
Out through a city st.lled in a Sab
bath mornings reverential calm, his
name was being spoken from a hun
dred pulpits. In the central Presby-
terrain church where he faithfully
went to worship while the flesh was
able. n choked-up confregation had
sung The Son of God goes forth to
war; How firm a Foundation: and
Onward. Christian Soldiers" favorite
hymns in which he loved to lift his
voice in n happier. better day. Over
a great land that had acclaimed him
chief. and in lands across the seas
where he had been hailed as a god of
peace, prayers were rising for the re-
pose of his soul.
In the street before the square
brick house where he has lived with
his memories, his hopes and his re-
grets. was another scene. There was
n gathering of people there. 1t was
not crusading throng come TO a
Mecca n pilgrimage TO attest their
faith in the ideals he Dersonified. 1t
was a group Of men and women
kneeling on the pavement in silent
prayer. Small prayer slip: bearing
the inscription Peace on earth. good
will toward men," held IN their hands,
fluttered In the chill wind which
swirled up the debris and litter left
there by the watchers engaged in the
colemnity Of the death watch that the
world nigh know.
Kneei in "S" Street
mfr. Wilson is attaining the peace
that passeth all understanding" said
their leader, while the throng sank to
It's knees and remained In silence for
minute. Then sickIy sun broke
through a cloud bank. 4 little native
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