ULYSSES S. GRANT RESTING AT MT. MCGREGOR. GENERAL GRANT'S LONG JOURNEY SAFELY ACCOMPLISHED.

At last General Grant is perched above the noise and the heat and is breathing the sweet air that sweeps from the White Mountains and Green Mountains. In front of the porch where he has been sitting for one hour this afternoon, young squirrels have been at play, and the air is filled with the songs of birds and the smell of pine woods. The journey would not have been an easy one for him in health, and considering the pitiful state he seems, now that several hours have passed since it ended, to have stood it quite as well as could be hoped.

Sharp reminders of the hot weather and General Grant's inability to cope with it were presented at nearly every stage of the trip. he was badly shaken up before starting from New York by the jolting of his carriage over the stony streets. For a long time after the carriage arrived at Grand Central Station, he was unable to leave it. Then, as though he had summoned his resolution to a strong test, he stepped out upon the sidewalk and with short but firm steps crossed to the entrance of the building. Colonel Grant then placed an arm around his father's shoulder and with Harrison at the other arm, the General mounted the short flight of steps, which brought them to the platform.

The effort had cost him a good deal of what little strength he had left. Through his cheeks the thin blood could be seen coursing at feverish speed. In the struggle to recover his breath the scarf about his neck had become loose, exposing the ominous swelling that has frightened and puzzled the doctors. He stood an instant at the top of the flight of stairs. The huge crowd was rapidly passing close to him and Colonel Grant, keeping a tender hold on the patient, pressed him gently forward. The General brought down his black cane and loosened his hold on Harrison. Then he raised his bent form as well as he could, and, seeing a party of veterans directly in front of him, released himself from the Colonel's hold on his left side, and trudged forward, with the aid of his cane only, his slippers dragging along the walk. The distance was not more than 50 feet, and it took him 4 minutes to make the walk.

The General's noted red leather sick chairs were placed on the Vanderbilt train, preceded by the General's family. Once seated inside, his silk hat was replaced by his skull cap, and his feet were placed on the other chair and thus he occupied the same position he has occupied for many months past. The Vanderbilt car was lavishly furnished, but the General appeared indifferent to his surroundings. Mrs. Grant followed him into the car. Mrs. Grant and Mrs. Sartoris placed themselves on sofas where they could carefully watch the General, while Colonel Grant and Drs. Shrady and Douglas places chairs very close to the sufferer. At 8:59 the train pulled away from the station.

There was nothing in the General's manner how the trip affected him. He sat, making no sign, with his hands folded across his lap and his head drooped forward. The General began to feel the heat, and motioned to his attendants to change his position so that he might ride backward. The rear door was opened at 10:00 when the train passed West Point. The General roused a little, but when a curve in the track hid the buildings, he dozed again. When the train pulled into the Saratoga station at 11:50, the General still retained his place at the rear of the car. The thermometer inside the train registered a stifling 105 degrees. A respectful but gaping crowd filled the station, and his pride prevented the General from showing weakness and he sat there, suffering silently in the terrible heat while the cars were changed.

With the beginning of the spin from Saratoga onward the General was unable to hide his ever-growing discomfort. It showed itself in the swelling of his neck and the twitching of his hands and mouth. Nothing could lessen his pain and the neck swelling was plainly becoming larger. The General kept his place at the back of the train, where he could be seen by people gathered stations and on the tracks. They would wave and cheer him as he passed. The demonstrations were quite enthusiastic. All this time it could be seen that the General was in great pain, although no murmur escaped him. The lump on his neck could almost be seen to spread, both below and in front and he passed his hand over it frequently. At 1:45 they reached Ballston and the General was informed it was time to switch cars. He cheered up noticeably.

There was a crowd waiting at the Mt. McGregor station and a train was waiting to take him up the mountain road. The Wheeler G.A.R. post formed two lines to greet their old commander and to prevent the lusty crowd from overtaking him. All was primed for a wild ovation, but the instant the General came into view he looked so wan, so pitifully weak, that no one had the heart to cheer him just then. He held fast to the rail as he descended it, pausing at the last step, as if uncertain of what to do next. Colonel Grant stepped forward and held out his arms to his father. The General nodded and he was picked up as easily as if he were a child and was carried over to the other platform. The crowd cheered as he was finally seated in the train and he saluted. The last stage of the journey had begun.

The jolting ride of 12 miles up the mountain was exhilarating to those who were well, but on the General's weakened system the trip was a hard tax. Not a word of complaint escaped him during the 12 mile jolt, but when it was over he was so relieved that he wanted to walk away from the train immediately. Instead of that he was very carefully helped down, and then approached the cottage. Colonel Fred again carried him inside the cottage, though he mounted the stairs with only slight assistance. Mr. Drexel greeted him and he said the porch looked good enough for him to sleep on. For about an hour he rested himself on an easy chair on the porch. The General's throat was dusty and in much pain, so Dr. Douglas dressed it and applied cocaine. His speech was scarcely above a tiny whisper. The neck swelling had hardened as well as enlarged, and the pulse was elevated. Tonight he is quiet and his nurse attended him until lights were extinguished at 11 o'clock.