ld like for you to make me a present
of the right-hand glove that the President wears at the first public
reception after his second inaugural."

"You shall have it in welcome. It will be so filthy when he pulls it
off, I shall be tempted to take the tongs and put it in the fire. I
cannot imagine, Lizabeth, what you want with such a glove."

"I shall cherish it as a precious memento of the second inauguration of
the man who has done so much for my race. He has been a Jehovah to my
people--has lifted them out of bondage, and directed their footsteps
from darkness into light. I shall keep the glove, and hand it down to
posterity."

"You have some strange ideas, Lizabeth. Never mind, you shall have the
glove; that is, if Mr. Lincoln continues President after the 4th of
March next."

I held Mrs. Lincoln to her promise. That glove is now in my possession,
bearing the marks of the thousands of hands that grasped the honest hand
of Mr. Lincoln on that eventful night. Alas! it has become a prouder,
sadder memento than I ever dreamed--prior to making the request--it
would be.

In due time the election came off, and all of my predictions were
verified. The loyal States decided that Mr. Lincoln should continue at
the nation's helm. Autumn faded, winter dragged slowly by, and still the
country resounded with the clash of arms. The South was suffering, yet
suffering was borne with heroic determination, and the army continued to
present a bold, defiant front. With the first early breath of spring,
thousands of people gathered in Washington to witness the second
inauguration of Abraham Lincoln as President of the United States. It
was a stirring day in the National Capital, and one that will never fade
from the memory of those who witnessed the imposing ceremonies. The
morning was dark and gloomy; clouds hung like a pall in the sky, as if
portending some great disaster. But when the President stepped forward
to receive the oath of office, the clouds parted, and a ray of sunshine
streamed from the heavens to fall upon and gild his face. It is also
said that a brilliant star was seen at noon-day. It was the noon-day of
life with Mr. Lincoln, and the star, as viewed in the light of
subsequent events, was emblematic of a summons from on high. This was
Saturday, and on Monday evening I went to the White House to dress Mrs.
Lincoln for the first grand levee. While arranging Mrs. L.'s hair, the
President came in. It was the first time