man sent him a fine Jersey cow, that he might be supplied with fresh milk. Two little girls in Pennsylvania, reading that the president wanted squirrel broth, sent to him their pet squirrel in a box by express, delighted to give the great and good man. any thing they possessed to aid in his recovery. There was no limit to the tangible expressions of tender regard by the people. The buoyant hopes raised by the removal of the patient were dashed, however, in a few days, by the undoubted evidence of blood-poisoning, and the presence of an abscess in the right lung. Many thought the last hope was gone. Others still clung to the hope which the patient's great physical vitality and uniform courage inspired. All along, the public, and even the doctors, had depended much upon the physical and moral make-up of the man, to restore him; and there can be no doubt, that, with an ordinary constitution, less will-power, and fewer of those conspicuous qualities, like decision, courage, self-reliance, and persistent purpose, which developed into his noble manhood, he would have died soon after the attempt upon his life. But he grew worse; and, on the seventeenth day of September, appeared to be beyond mortal aid. The medical attendants well-nigh despaired of him, although there was no evidence of speedy dissolution. Two days later, September nineteenth, there appeared slight improvement. He called for a handglass, that he might see his face. Mrs. Garfield put it into his hand, and he held it for some moments, viewing himself, when he remarked: "I do not see how it is that a man who looks as well as I do should be so dreadfully weak." In the evening, Colonel Rockwell, his faithful attendant, said: "Things look better; I always told you that the President would get well." Dr. Bliss remarked: "There are no more bad symptoms to mention. We think the lung trouble is a little better; his temperature is normal, and his pulse greatly reduced." General Swaim said: "He is worth all the dead men that can be laid between here and New York. His pulse is firmer, stronger, and has more volume. His mind is clear, and his stomach right. His pluck and courage are amazing. He comes out of a chill as cheerful as if he were leaving an evening party." Dr. Hamilton remarked to a friend: "It is almost impossible to look upon that cheerful, smiling face, and not feel that he is going to live." Under the impulse of this more buoyant feeling, at ten o'clock, P. M., the following was sent to Minister Lowell in London: "The President had another chill of considerable severity this morning, which, following so soon after the chill of last evening, left him very weak indeed. His pulse became more frequent and feeble than at any time since he recovered from the immediate shock of the wound, and his general condition was more alarming during the day. His system has reacted to some extent, and he passed the afternoon and evening comfortably. At this hour he is resting quietly, and no disturbance is expected during the night. There has been, however, no gain whatever in strength, and therefore, there is no decrease of anxiety." The lights were lowered for the night; Mrs. Garfield and the physicians retired; and the illustrious sleeper was left alone with his watchers. ITHIN ten minutes after the physicians and Mrs. Garfield retired, the president awoke with a groan. Placing his hand upon his heart, he said to General Swaim, "Oh, Swaim! what a terrible pain I have here!" Dr. Bliss was summoned from an adjoining room hastily, and the moment he fastened his eye upon the sufferer he exclaimed, "My God, Swaim, he is dying; call Mrs. Garfield." From that moment he appeared to be unconscious, although he fixed his eyes upon his wife as she hurriedly entered the room, and seemed to follow her as she moved around to the other side of the bed to take his hand in hers. His eyes were wide open, but dazed; his pulse only fluttered; he gasped, and was no more. At thirty-five minutes past ten o'clock, Dr. Bliss pronounced life extinct! A sudden and terrible change from the hope inspired at ten o'clock! The President of the United States her favorite son, scholar, and statesman was dead! |