The doctor turned as pale as death, and, trembling violently, motioned the barber aside, and tottered into the chamber adjoining, in which his wife was dressing.

“My dear,” he gasped, scarcely able to speak, “I have received such a shock.  President Lincoln has been murdered.”

[Illustration:  “PRESIDENT LINCOLN HAS BEEN MURDERED!”]

His agitation had now become so great that he could say no more.  He sank down into a chair, pale and trembling, and so feeble that he could scarcely sit up.  He was seized in a short time with acute pains in the back, and at the same time his vigor seemed to desert him entirely, and he became a weak and broken old man.  He was obliged to seek his bed, from which he never rose.  He grew feebler every day, and died on the 26th of April, 1865.