the hour of six
At last he yielded to fatigue , and far off on the horizon of consciousness dimly flashed the duel of his hopes and fears . Rest was impossible , and after a long time the dawn drifted between his half-closed lids ; a glorious dome floated out of the sky and the porter shouted , `` All out for Washington ! '' The cabmen who besieged the well-dressed passengers paid scant homage to the old man , who walked uncertainly out of the smoky shed and stood for a moment in Pennsylvania Avenue -- on one hand the Capitol , on the other the Treasury and White House . A great clock above him struck the hour of six ; he hesitated , then went toward the scene of conflict . The waking traffic , the great buildings , the pulse of this strange life filled him with depression . He came to a beautiful park and gazed upon Lafayette and Rochambeau , then the equestrian statue of Jackson . As he sat facing the snow-white building with columned portico , the magnolia blossoms were as incense .