and near the door, when a soldier came to the door and was told by the guard that he could not come into that car. General Grant asked the guard what the man wanted, and was told that he wanted to go to Washington. The General then asked why he was not permitted to come into the car, and was answered that "This car is a special car for General Grant and his staff." The General replied quickly, "Let him come in. I only occupy one seat in this car." This was the first intimation the guard had that General Grant and his staff were in the car. The General then asked what the other men were doing who were standing out on the platform, and being told that they wanted to go to Washington, he said, "Let all who can crowd in get in." The car was soon filled, one private soldier taking a seat beside the General and engaging him in conversation nearly all the way to Alexandria, not knowing with whom he was talking.

HIS GENEROSITY-When General Grant was President one of his nearest friends, who is now dead, went to exCongressman Paige to ask a loan of $3000. This friend said he had an affair in the War Department that would net him $50,000, which would certainly go through if Grant would approve it. This gentleman counted upon Grant's approval as absolute. Paige told him: "I will let you have the money, but you may be sure that he will not approve it unless it is right." Time passed on. The note given for the loan was promptly met. Paige, meeting the borrower upon the street soon after, said to him: "I see your War Department matter got through all right, as the note was very promptly met." The debtor shook his head. "How did you pay, then?" was asked. "I will tell you in confidence," was the reply. "After I obtained the money from you I went directly to the Presideat. I said to him: 'You know I am poor. With a stroke of your pen you can make me rich. I am related to you by the closest ties of blood and association. You cannot refuse

me.' I then explained the matter. Grant said he could not do it. It would not be right. Seeing me very much cast down, he asked me if I was in debt. I explained that I was in debt $3000-your note, and could not meet it. He at once wrote me his check for that amount without a word. It was that check which took up your note." Mr. Paige afterward investigated his story carefully, and, having confidential relations with the cashier of the bank where the note was paid, was able to verify its truth.

BEATING STANTON-Washington circles were very uneasy when Lee detached Early for the Valley campaign, and Grant had great trouble with his telegraphic orders, which the Secretary of War took the liberty of modifying to suit the desperate situation. Grant came up to look into the matter. Finding what the trouble was, and knowing that Stanton was a very determined man, he called on Mr. Lincoln and took him along to the War Department. Arriving there he made a plain statement of the case and asked the Secretary if he was correct. Stanton admitted that he was, but plead that he was doing what he thought was best for the safety of Washington. Grant turned to Mr. Lincoln and said, "Well, Mr. President, all I have to say is that there cannot be two commanders of the army. I guess I shall have to resign." Mr. Lincoln sat for a moment nursing his knees, and then looking up, in a good-natured but firm voice, said, "Mr. Secretary, I guess we'd better let Grant run the machine." The General had no complaint to make of Stanton from that hour.

THE GENERAL SURRENDERS.-It was early in the war, and in November, just after Grant had gotten his commission as brigadier. A young soldier was on guard at headquarters. It was a cold, quiet duty, and the young guard, a mere boy of sixteen, fell asleep. The General came down the stairway, and, seeing the sleeping sentinel, asked, “What are you doing there?"

"I'm the guard," answered the frightened boy.

"An excellent guard, indeed! Do you know where you are ?"

"At General Grant's headquarters, sir."

"Stand up, then! Stand up straight! Bring your gun to a shoulder!" The General staid with him for fully ten minutes, showing him how to perform. Then he asked how long he had been in the army. The boy said only a few days. "Well," said the General, "you have been guilty of a very serious offence. I am General Grant, and I have power to punish you. I will let you off this time, but remember that all orders and all discipline must be strictly obeyed here."

A few days after, the boy was put on guard on a steamboat loaded with provisions and ammunition, with orders to allow no one with lighted pipe or cigar to come near. Grant came rushing on to the gang-plank with his cigar in his mouth.

"Halt!" cried the guard, bringing his gun to his shoulder. The General, not thinking of his cigar, was surprised, and, being in a hurry, was annoyed. But the boy remained firm. On being remonstrated with, he said, "I have had a lesson from General Grant himself, who says all orders must be obeyed to the letter. No one can approach this boat with a lighted cigar."

The General smiled, threw his cigar in the river, and crossed the gang-plank.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE DYING HERO.

N the winter of 1883-84 General Grant had the misfortune

and to badly sprain, if not dislocate, his hip joint. This was the beginning of a series of physical troubles.

Up to that time he had been of robust constitution. This accident confined him to the house for a long time, and, as may well be supposed, with a man of his activity and energy, the confinement grew to be exceedingly irksome.

The summer brought only partial relief. True, he could make out to get back and forth from the city to his cottage at Long Branch, but he was forced to use crutches all the time, and walked, even then, only with great difficulty and amid much pain. It was plain to those who knew him intimately that his system had received a shock from which recovery was exceedingly slow.

He was past sixty years of age. The recuperative powers of youth were gone. The hardships and exposures of two wars, which a good constitution had hitherto withstood, were now coming in on the first moment of weakness, to tantalize him with their cruel remembrance of aches and pains. But he was fighting a plucky battle against his years and the results of his accident-fighting grimly, quietly, uncomplainingly, as he had been wont to do when the fate of armies was in his hands.

That he would have come around all right in time none doubted. His will was unimpaired, and it was helping the

body at all its weak points. But now it was to receive a blow -a sudden, fearful, shattering blow.

The year 1884 brought the Grant-Ward failure, with its train of blights and woes. To General Grant it was by far the hardest blow of his life. He had intended to settle down in Washington-which city he loved-after his return from his "Tour Around the World," but he went to New York City, that he might be near his sons, who were in business there. The fatherly instinct weighed against all his previous plans for a quiet, retired life. He was a model family man in all his acts and prepossessions.

Once in New York, and amid its business hurly burly, possessed of means supposed to be ample for every personal want, with something over for investment should opportunity offer, endowed with a name and credit which would prove a tower of strength to any legitimate enterprise, and which amid financial sharpers would naturally be sought to bolster up failing or doubtful enterprises, it would have been something wonderful if he had escaped fleecing and disaster.

At an untoward and unsuspecting moment he loaned his name and credit to the banking-house which proved the maelstrom in which his fortune perished, and which literally drowned his peace of mind, turned his hopes into despair, impaired his invincible will, threw him up on the hostile shore of years a princely man, but, as to property in his own name, a beggar. The world hath it that he was the victim of his own generosity, his unsuspecting nature, his wonderfully child-like faith in those to whom he was attached by blood, or was attracted toward by the relations of friendship, politics or business. Let the world's verdict stand. It does him ample justice. Hard and cold are the laws and sentiments of trade. They may exclaim, "Where was his tact, his shrewdness, his ability to turn a sharp corner, his power to squeeze himself out