"My poor wife and children." Then he dictated a
message to his wife.

A struggle with death ensued, on which the whole world looked with awe.

For weeks the President hovered between life and death, showing ever
the same sublime spirit of cheerful patience and Christian resignation
which had adorned his life. At length the end came, and on the 19th of
September 1881 he fell asleep. His body was removed to Washington,
where he was laid in state. On the bier a wreath of white roses
rested, bearing the simple inscription--"From Queen Victoria to the
memory of the late President Garfield, an expression of her sorrow, and
her sympathy with Mrs. Garfield and the American nation."

Through that room passed a hundred and thirty thousand persons of all
ranks, to take one last look at the man whose life had been so great,
and whose dying had been so glorious. Then in the cemetery of his
native Cleveland, James A. Garfield was laid to rest.

The spontaneous affection of his countrymen amply provided for his
beloved family; and his martyrdom, it was said, did more than any other
event could have done to draw the North and South together. His death
was mourned, and the manner of it hated by every section and party
alike, and the whole nation, united now in sorrow, bowed in loving
tenderness over the grave of one of its greatest children.

CHAPTER XX.

LOOKING BACK.

One of the pleasantest things in the story of Garfield is the devotion
of friends and companions, which followed and helped him all his life.
To an orphan lad, the son of a poor widow in the backwoods of the State
of Ohio, there seemed little chance of greatness; and yet out of that
poor cabin in the woods, in which sat the weeping mother and her four
fatherless children, came one who was destined to stand among princes.

It was the self-denial of his mother, elder brother, and sister which
made it possible for James Garfield to rise. When the father died
suddenly, leaving his family on the comparatively new clearing, Thomas,
the eldest son, became the manager of the farm. "I can plough and
plant, mother. I can sow the wheat too, and cut the wood, milk the
cows, and do heaps of things for you."

[Illustration: The White House.]

This was the elder lad's answer to his mother's question, "Should they
sell the farm now that her husband was dead?" and it decided her. And
so the boy-farmer commenced his labours, and mother and children toiled
toge