with scarlet and purple glory, Abraham Lincoln breathed his last.
Even grim Stanton, the iron-hearted, stood by his bedside and through blinding tears exclaimed:
"Now he belongs to the ages!"
The deed was done. The wheel of things had moved. Vice-President Johnson took the oath of office, and men hailed him Chief; but the seat of Empire had moved from the White House to a little dark house on the Capitol hill, where dwelt an old club-footed man, alone, attended by a strange brown woman of sinister animal beauty and the restless eyes of a leopardess.
