An Evening at the President's

There was a sound of revelry by night--
"Columbia's" capital had gathered then
Her beauty and her chivalry: and bright
The lamps shone o'er fair women and brave men.
A thousand hearts beat happily; and when
Music arose with its voluptuous swell,
Soft eyes looked love to eyes that spoke again,
And all went merry as a marriage bell.

--Byron.

The carriage rolled along Pennsylvania Avenue. The weather had changed
since sunset, and the evening was misty with a light, drizzling rain.
Yet still the scene was a gay, busy, and enlivening one; the gas lamps
that lighted the Avenue gleamed brightly through the rain drops like
smiles through tears; the sidewalks were filled with pedestrians, and
the middle of the street with vehicles, all going in one direction, to
the President's palace.

A decorously slow drive of fifteen minutes brought our party through
this gay scene to a gayer one at the north gate of the President's park,
where a great crowd of carriages were drawn up, waiting their turn to
drive in.

The gates were open and lighted by four tall lamps placed upon the
posts, and which illuminated the whole scene.

Judge Merlin's carriage drew up on the outskirts of this crowd of
vehicles, to wait his turn to enter; but he soon found himself enclosed
in the center of the assemblage by other carriages that had come after
his own. He had to wait full fifteen minutes before he could fall into
the procession that was slowly making its way through the right-hand
gate, and along the lighted circular avenue that led up to the front
entrance of the palace. Even on this misty night the grounds were gayly
illuminated and well filled. But crowded as the scene was, the utmost
order prevailed. The carriages that came up the right-hand avenue, full
of visitors, discharged them at the entrance hall and rolled away empty
down the left-hand avenue, so that there was a continuous procession of
full carriages coming up one way and empty carriages going down the
other.