it baked in the real old Virginia style, with stuffing of
chestnuts and surrounded by baked sweet potatoes. It will be a
dish fit for the gods. Come and taste it."

President Harrison, who was an early riser, used to go to market,
and he invariably refused to wear an overcoat, although the spring
was cold and stormy. One morning, having gone to the market thus
thinly attired, he was overtaken by a slight shower and got wet,
but refused to change his clothes. The following day he felt
symptoms of indisposition, which were followed by pneumonia. At
his Ohio home he had lived plainly and enjoyed sleep, but at
Washington he had, while rising early, rarely retired before one
o'clock in the morning, and his physical powers, enfeebled by age,
had been overtaxed. At the same time, the President's mental powers
had undergone a severe strain, as was evident when he became somewhat
delirious. Sometimes he would say, "My dear madam, I did not direct
that your husband should be turned out. I did not know it. I
tried to prevent it." On other occasions he would say, in broken
sentences, "It is wrong--I won't consent--'tis unjust!" "These
applications--will they never cease!" The last time that he spoke
was about three hours before his death, when his physicians and
attendants were standing over him. Clearing his throat, as if
desiring to speak audibly, and as though he fancied himself addressing
his successor, or some official associate in the Government, he
said: "Sir, I wish you to understand the true principles of the
Government. I wish them carried out. I ask nothing more."

"One little month" after President Harrison's inauguration multitudes
again assembled to attend his funeral. Minute-guns were fired
during the day, flags were displayed at half staff, and Washington
was crowded with strangers at an early hour. The buildings of
either side of Pennsylvania Avenue, with scarcely an exception,
and many houses on the contiguous streets, were hung with festoons
and streamers of black. Almost every private dwelling had crape
upon its door, and many of the very humblest abodes displayed some
spontaneous signal of the general sorrow. The stores and places
of business, even such as were too frequently seen open on the
Sabbath, were all closed.

Funeral services were performed in the Executive Mansion, which,
for the first time, was shrouded in mourning. The coffin rested
on a temporary catafalque in the centre o