He died in the Lord in November 1871, and left a memory behind that grows more fragrant as years go on. His dust lies buried in the graveyard in front of Salem Chapel, where, five years later, the remains of his devoted wife, Sally, were laid beside him. There let their dust sleep until that day "when they that are in their graves shall hear His voice, and come forth." "Oh," said a good woman one day when talking over the subject of these pages, "I should just like to have an odd look into heaven, to see what Little Abe is about." What is he about? He is praising God in the glorious temple above: "And one of the elders answered, saying unto me, What are these arrayed in white robes? and whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said to me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve Him day and night in the temple. They rest not day and night saying, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come." THE END.