o
the house the faces were plainly discernible, but they faded into mere
ghostly outlines on the outskirts of the assembly; and what added to the
weird, spectral beauty of the scene, was the confused hum of voices that
rose above the sea of forms, sounding like the subdued, sullen roar of
an ocean storm, or the wind soughing through the dark lonely forest. It
was a grand and imposing scene, and when the President, with pale face
and his soul flashing through his eyes, advanced to speak, he looked
more like a demigod than a man crowned with the fleeting days of
mortality.

The moment the President appeared at the window he was greeted with a
storm of applause, and voices re-echoed the cry, "A light! a light!"

A lamp was brought, and little Tad at once rushed to his father's side,
exclaiming:

"Let me hold the light, Papa! let me hold the light!"

Mrs. Lincoln directed that the wish of her son be gratified, and the
lamp was transferred to his hands. The father and son standing there in
the presence of thousands of free citizens, the one lost in a chain of
eloquent ideas, the other looking up into the speaking face with a
proud, manly look, formed a beautiful and striking tableau.

There were a number of distinguished gentlemen, as well as ladies, in
the room, nearly all of whom remarked the picture.

I stood a short distance from Mr. Lincoln, and as the light from the
lamp fell full upon him, making him stand out boldly in the darkness, a
sudden thought struck me, and I whispered to the friend at my side:

"What an easy matter would it be to kill the President, as he stands
there! He could be shot down from the crowd, and no one be able to tell
who fired the shot."

I do not know what put such an idea into my head, unless it was the
sudden remembrance of the many warnings that Mr. Lincoln had received.

The next day, I made mention to Mrs. Lincoln of the idea that had
impressed me so strangely the night before, and she replied with a sigh:

"Yes, yes, Mr. Lincoln's life is always exposed. Ah, no one knows what
it is to live in constant dread of some fearful tragedy. The President
has been warned so often, that I tremble for him on every public
occasion. I have a presentiment that he will meet with a sudden and
violent end. I pray God to protect my beloved husband from the hands of
the assassin."

Mr. Lincoln was fond of pets. He had two goats that knew the sound of
his voice, and when he called them they wou