The streets at night, for several nights prior to the inaugural ceremonies, were practically deserted. There was a hush over everything. It seemed to me that the shadow of death was hovering near. I had constantly floating before my eyes sable plumes and trappings of woe. I could hear dirges constantly and thought for a while that I would have to leave the place or go crazy. I knew that all these somber thoughts were but imagination, but I also knew that the something which had influenced my imagination was tangible--really existed. The 4th of March came and Mr. Lincoln was inaugurated quietly and without ostentation. After the services were over and it became known that Mr. Lincoln had really been inducted into office there was a savage snarl went up from the disaffected ones. The snarl was infectious. It was answered by just as savage growls all over the city. But nothing was said. A single yell of defiance, a pistol-shot, or even an oath would have precipitated a conflict. Men simply glared at each other and gnashed their teeth, but were careful not to grit them so it could be heard. I went to my room in the Willard and sat down to do some work. I couldn't work. The stillness was oppressive. At least a dozen times I picked up my pencils, only to throw them down again. I got up and paced the floor nervously. I heard men on either side of me doing the same thing. Walking didn't relieve the severe mental strain. I sat down in my chair and pressed my head in my hands. Suddenly I heard a window go up and someone step out on the balcony of the Ebbit House, directly opposite. Everybody in the hotel had heard him. What is he going to do? I asked myself, and I suppose everyone else propounded the same mental interrogation. We hadn't to wait long. He began to sing the Star-Spangled Banner in a clear, strong voice. The effect was magical, electrical. One window went up, and another, and heads popped out all over the neighborhood. People began to stir on the streets. A crowd soon gathered. The grand old song was taken up and sung by thousands. The spell was broken, and when the song was finished tongues were loosened, and cheer after cheer rent the air. The man rooming next to me rapped on my door and insisted that I should take a walk with him. As we passed along the corridors we were joined by others, men wild with joy, some of them weeping and throwing their arms around each other's neck. Others were singing and all were happy. Washington was itself again. The "Star-Spangled Banner" had saved it. LINCOLN'S FAVORITE POEM MORTALITY (O WHY SHOULD THE SPIRIT OF MORTAL BE PROUD?)