“We meet this e-ven-ing, not in sor-row, but in glad-ness of heart.” Then he went on to tell the peo-ple what he hoped to do for those who had lost. He said that his Cab-i-net was a-bout to meet, and the mem-bers of it would, no doubt, join with him in plans to help the South and bring a-bout a spir-it of true peace in the land. There were some folks in the South at that time, on-ly a small knot of them no doubt, who thought Pres-i-dent Lin-coln was their arch foe. They bound them-selves to-geth-er to do him and some of his best men all the harm they could. It was on the night of A-pril 14, 1865, af-ter the meet-ing of the Cab-i-net in the morn-ing, that the Pres-i-dent, with his wife and two young friends, went to see a play. Mr. Lin-coln felt wea-ry and would have liked to stay at home. He had been out to drive that af-ter-noon with his wife, and to the throngs of folks who saw and greet-ed him then he had bowed, smiled, and, here and there, said a kind word. [Illustration: ABRAHAM LINCOLN AS HE LOOKED IN 1865.] But it was not for him to rest at home that night. He had giv-en his word that he would go to Ford’s The-a-tre. Gen. and Mrs. Grant hoped to join the Lin-colns in their box, but at the last mo-ment they had to leave town. The thought of see-ing two men so great as Lin-coln and Grant to-geth-er on that night drew a vast throng to Ford’s. Cheer af-ter cheer went up as all rose when the Pres-i-dent came in. The band played “Hail to the Chief,” and all hearts were glad. The Pres-i-dent bowed and took his seat, smil-ing as the first pleas-ing act was played. Then, just as the cur-tain rose on the sec-ond scene of the last act, the sound of a pis-tol’s re-port fell on the air. At first it was thought to have been part of the play; then a man was seen to leap from the Pres-i-dent’s box and fall down up-on the stage, with a knife in his hand, call-ing out the Lat-in words “Sic sem-per ty-ran-nis,” which mean “Thus al-ways to ty-rants.” Some one shout-ed “He has shot the Pres-i-dent――!” Friends flew to the box and three ar-my sur-geons made their way through the crowd and helped take the great and good man, who now was near his end, out to a small house a-cross the street. [Illustration: ASSASSINATION OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN.] When dawn came and lamps grew dim, A-bra-ham Lin-coln’s pulse be-gan to fail. Soon a calm look of peace came up-on his worn face and he was gone. The bad man who shot Lin-coln was one of that knot of folks who had sworn to do him, and some of his Cab-i-net, harm. They said that by so do-ing they would “a-venge the South.” Oth-er good men be-sides the Pres-i-dent were struck that night, but the Pres-i-dent, a-lone, met his death wound. Those who had made the plot to do that foul deed were soon caught and put to death. As the news went forth of the tra-gic death of A-bra-ham Lin-coln the land stood a-ghast with awe. Bells tolled, work stopped, and grief filled all hearts.