sky of blue.

His voice is silent in the hall
Which oft his presence graced;
No more he'll hear the loud acclaim
Which rang from place to place.

No squeamish notions filled his breast,
_The Union_ was his theme;
"_No surrender and no compromise_,"
His day-thought and night's dream.

His Country has _her_ part to pay
To'rds those he has left behind;
His widow and his children all,
She must always keep in mind.

Finding that Willie continued to grow worse, Mrs. Lincoln determined to
withdraw her cards of invitation and postpone the reception. Mr. Lincoln
thought that the cards had better not be withdrawn. At least he advised
that the doctor be consulted before any steps were taken. Accordingly
Dr. Stone was called in. He pronounced Willie better, and said that
there was every reason for an early recovery. He thought, since the
invitations had been issued, it would be best to go on with the
reception. Willie, he insisted, was in no immediate danger. Mrs. Lincoln
was guided by these counsels, and no postponement was announced. On the
evening of the reception Willie was suddenly taken worse. His mother sat
by his bedside a long while, holding his feverish hand in her own, and
watching his labored breathing. The doctor claimed there was no cause
for alarm. I arranged Mrs. Lincoln's hair, then assisted her to dress.
Her dress was white satin, trimmed with black lace. The trail was very
long, and as she swept through the room, Mr. Lincoln was standing with
his back to the fire, his hands behind him, and his eyes on the carpet.
His face wore a thoughtful, solemn look. The rustling of the satin dress
attracted his attention. He looked at it a few moments; then, in his
quaint, quiet way remarked--

"Whew! our cat has a long tail to-night."

Mrs. Lincoln did not reply. The President added:

"Mother, it is my opinion, if some of that tail was nearer the head, it
would be in better style;" and he glanced at her bare arms and neck. She
had a beautiful neck and arm, and low dresses were becoming to her. She
turned away with a look of offended dignity, and presently took the
President's arm, and both went down-stairs to their guests, leaving me
alone with the sick boy.

The reception was a large and brilliant one, and the rich notes of the
Marine Band in the apartments below came to the sick-room in soft,
subdued murmurs, like the wild, faint sobbing of far-off s