e while bathing, and fallen into
an insensible condition for a quarter of an hour. The question whether
his physical condition might not be one of frailty was serious. Then
Mrs. Garfield became ill, and the situation was gloomy.

THE GARFIELDS IN THE WHITE HOUSE.

There was one evening at the White House--just when Mrs. Garfield's
indisposition was at first manifested, and then was only apparent in
a slight chill, that caused a rather unseasonable wood fire to be
lighted--that none of those present can have forgotten; for there
were not many bright hours in the midst of the dismal shadowing of
the drama hastening to the tragic close. Mrs. Garfield was, with the
privilege of an invalid, whose chilly sensation was supposed to
be trivial, seated before the fire, the warmth of which was to her
pleasant; and she was pale but animated, surrounded by a group among
whom were several very dear to her. General Sherman arrived, and
was--as always when his vivacity was kindly, and it was never
otherwise with ladies--fascinating. The scene was brilliant, and had
a charming domestic character. The President was detained for half an
hour beyond the time when he was expected, and came in with a quick
step and hearty manner, and there was soon a flush of pleasure upon
his face, that had been touched with the lines of fatigue, as he saw
how agreeable the company were. A lady, who had never before seen him,
voiced the sentiment of all present, saying in a whisper: "Why, he is
the ideal President! How grand he is! How can they speak about him so?
What a magnificent gentleman he is! Talk about your canal boys!"
He was well dressed, of splendid figure, his coat buttoned over his
massive chest, his dome-like head erect, adequately supported
by immense shoulders, and he looked the President indeed, and an
embodiment of power. He was feeling that the dark days were behind
him, that he was equal to his high fortune, that the world was wide
and fair before him. It was a supreme hour--and only an hour--for the
occasion was informal, and there was a feeling that the lady of the
White House should not be detained from her rest; and the good-night
words were trustful that she would be well next morning; but then she
was in a fever, and after some weeks was taken to Long Branch, and
returned to her husband, called, to find him stricken unto death.

It happened on the last day of June, 1881, that I stopped in
Washington on the way to New York; and