COLUMBIA LIBRARIES OFFSITE AVERv FINE AR-S RESTRICTED AR01 397672 THEODOR ETT£ ^O H Avery Architectural and Fine Arts Library Gift of Sfymour B. Dlrst Old York Library When you leave, please leave this book Because it has been said "Ever'thing comes t' him who waits £:'^^^^ ^^^^ ^^^' ^^^' ^^^^' It was the greatest fun seeing you, and I really had a satisfactory time with you, and came away feeling that you were doing well. I am entirely satisfied with your standing, both in your studies and in athletics. I want you to do well in your sports, and I want even more to have you do well with your books; but I do not expect you to stand first in either, if so to stand could cause you over- work and hurt your health. I always believe in going hard at everything, whether it is Latin [25] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN or mathematics, boxing or football, but at the same time I want to keep the sense of proportion. It is never worth while to absolutely exhaust one's self or to take big chances unless for an ade- quate object. I want you to keep in training the faculties which would make you, if the need arose, able to put your last ounce of pluck and strength into a contest. But I do not want you to squan- der these qualities. To have you play football as well as you do, and make a good name in box- ing and wrestling, and be cox of your second crew, and stand second or third in your class in the studies, is all right. I should be rather sorry to see you drop too near the middle of your class, because, as you cannot enter college until you are nineteen, and will therefore be a year later in entering life, I want you to be prepared in the best possible way, so as to make up for the delay. But I know that all you can do you will do to keep substantially the position in the class that you have so far kept, and I have entire trust in you, for you have always deserved it. The weather has been lovely here. The cherry [26] A WHITE GUINEA PIG trees are in full bloom, the peach trees just open- ing, while the apples will not be out for ten days. The May flowers and bloodroot have gone, the anemonies and bellwort have come and the violets are coming. All the birds are here, pretty much, and the warblers troop through the woods. To my delight, yesterday Kermit, when I tried him on Diamond, did excellently. He has evi- dently turned the corner in his riding, and was just as much at home as possible, although he was on my saddle with his feet thrust in the leathers above the stirrup. Poor mother has had a hard time with Yagenka, for she rubbed her back, and as she sadly needs exercise and I could not have a saddle put upon her, I took her out bareback yesterday. Her gaits are so easy that it is really more comfortable to ride her without a saddle than to ride Texas with one. and I gave her three miles sharp cantering and trotting. Dewey Jr. is a very cunning white guinea pig. I wish you could see Kermit taking out Dewey Sr. and Bob Evans to spend the day on the grass. Archie is the sweetest little fellow imaginable^ [27] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN He is always thinking of you. He has now struck up a great friendship with Nicholas, rather to Mame's (the nurse's) regret, as Mame would like to keep him purely for Quentin. The last-named small boisterous person was in fearful disgrace this morning, having flung a block at his mother's head. It was done in sheer playfulness, but of course could not be passed over lightly, and after the enormity of the crime had been brought fully home to him, he fled with howls of anguish to me and lay in an abandon of yellow-headed grief in my arms. Ethel is earning money for the purchase of the Art Magazine by industriously hoeing up the weeds in the walk. Alice is going to ride Yagenka bareback this afternoon, while I try to teach Ethel on Diamond, after Kermit has had his ride. Yesterday at dinner we were talking of how badly poor Mrs. Blank looked, and Kermit sud- denly observed in an aside to Ethel, entirely un- conscious that we were listening: "Oh, Effel, I'll tell you what Mrs. Blank looks like: Like Davis' hen dat died — you know, de one dat couldn't hop [28] QUENTIN MADE MISERABLE up on de perch." Naturally, this is purely a private anecdote. ARCHIE AND QUENTIN T> rr. Oyster Bay, May 7, 1901. Blessed Ted: Recently I have gone in to play with Archie and Quentin after they have gone to bed, and they have grown to expect me, jumping up, very soft and warm in their tommies, expecting me to roll them over on the bed and tickle and "grabble" in them. However, it has proved rather too ex- citing, and an edict has gone forth that hereafter I must play bear with them before supper, and give up the play when they have gone to bed. To-day was Archie's birthday, and Quentin re- sented Archie's having presents while he (Quen- tin) had none. With the appalling frankness of three years old, he remarked with great sincerity that *'it made him miserable," and when taken to task for his lack of altruistic spirit he expressed an obviously perfunctory repentance and said: *'Well, boys must lend boys things, at any rate!" [29] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN incidents of home-coming Blessed Ted: ^^"*^^ ^^^' ^"'' ^'''' ""'• I enclose some Filipino Revolutionary postage stamps. Maybe some of the boys would like them. Have you made up your mind whether you would like to try shooting the third week in August or the last week in July, or would you rather wait until you come back when I can find out something more definite from Mr. Post.? We very much wished for you while we were at the (Buffalo) Exposition. By night it was especially beautiful. Alice and I also wished that you could have been with us when we were out riding at Geneseo. Major Wadsworth put me on a splendid big horse called Triton, and sister on a thoroughbred mare. They would jump any- thing. It was sister's first experience, but she did splendidly and rode at any fence at which I would first put Triton. I did not try anything very high, but still some of the posts and rails were about four feet high, and it was enough to test sister's seat. Of course, all we had to do was to [30] A WELCOME HOME stick on as the horses jumped perfectly and en- joyed it quite as much as we did. The first four or five fences that I went over I should be ashamed to say how far I bounced out of the saddle, but after a while I began to get into my seat again. It has been a good many years since I have jumped a fence. Mother stopped off at Albany while sister went on to Boston, and I came on here alone Tuesday afternoon. St. Gaudens, the sculptor, and Dunne (Mr. Dooley) were on the train and took lunch with us. It was great fun meeting them and I liked them both. Kermit met me in high feather, although I did not reach the house until ten o'clock, and he sat by me and we exchanged anec- dotes while I took my supper. Ethel had put an alarm clock under her head so as to be sure and wake up, but although it went off she continued to slumber profoundly, as did Quentin. Archie waked up suflSciently to tell me that he had found another turtle just as small as the already existing treasure of the same kind. This morn- ing Quentin and Black Jack have neither of them [31] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN been willing to leave me for any length of time. Black Jack simply lies curled up in a chair, but as Quentin is most conversational, he has added an element of harassing difficulty to my effort to answer my accumulated correspondence. Archie announced that he had seen "the Balti- more orioles catching fish!" This seemed to warrant investigation; but it turned out he meant barn swallows skimming the water. The President not only sent "picture letters" to his own children, but an especial one to Miss Sarah Schuyler Butler, daughter of Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, President of Columbia University, who had written to him a little note of congrat- ulation on his first birthday in the White House. White House, Nov. 3d, 1901. Dear little Miss Sarah, I liked your birthday note very much; and my children say I should draw you two pictures in return. We have a large blue macaw — Quentin calls [32] A PICTURE LETTER him a polly-parrot — who Kves in the greenhouse, and is very friendly, but makes queer noises. He eats bread, potatoes, and coffee grains. The children have a very cunning pony. He is a little pet, like a dog, but he plays tricks on them when they ride him. / f^ ..^~^ 3 BILL THE LIZARD AGAIN it just this morning when Mother and I took breakfast on the portico and afterwards walked about the lovely grounds and looked at the stately historic old house. It is a wonderful privilege to have been here and to have been given the chance to do this work, and I should regard myself as having a small and mean mind if in the event of defeat I felt soured at not having had more in- stead of being thankful for having had so much. BILL THE LIZARD Blessed AECiiiiaNs: ^^'^'''^ House, June 21. 1904. The other day when Mother and I were walking down the steps of the big south porch we saw a movement among the honeysuckles and there was Bill the lizard — your lizard that you brought home from Mount Vernon. We have seen him several times since and he is evidently entirely at home here. The White House seems big and empty without any of you children puttering around it, and I think the ushers miss you very much. I play tennis in the late afternoons unless I go to ride with Mother. [105] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN ON THE EVE OF ELECTION _ -- White House, Oct. 15, 1904. Darling Kermit: The weather has been beautiful the last week — mild, and yet with the true feeling of Fall in the air. When Mother and I have ridden up Rock Creek through the country round about, it has been a perpetual delight just to look at the foliage. I have never seen leaves turn more beautifully. The Virginia creepers and some of the maple and gum trees are scarlet and crimson. The oaks are deep red brown. The beeches, birches and hick- ories are brilliant saffron. Just at this moment I am dictating while on my way with Mother to the wedding of Senator Knox's daughter, and the country is a blaze of color as we pass through it, so that it is a joy to the eye to look upon it. I do not think I have ever before seen the colorings of the woods so beautiful so far south as this. Ted is hard at work with Matt. Hale, who is a very nice fellow and has become quite one of the household, like good Mademoiselle. I am really fond of her. She is so bright and amusing and [106] A ROCK CREEK SCRAMBLE now seems perfectly happy, and is not only devoted to Archie and Quentin but is very wise in the way she takes care of them. Quentin, under parental duress, rides Algonquin every day. Archie has just bought himself a football suit, but I have not noticed that he has played football as yet. He is spending Saturday and Sunday out at Dr. Rixey's. Ted plays tennis w^ith Matt. Hale and me and Mr. Cooley. Vse tried Dan Moore. You could beat him. Yesterday I took an after- noon off and we all went for a scramble and climb down the other side of the Potomac from Chain Bridge home. It was great fun. To-morrow (Sunday) we shall have lunch early and spend the afternoon in a drive of the entire family, includ- ing Ethel, but not including Archie and Quentin, out to Burnt Mills and back. When I say we all scrambled along the Potomac, I of course only meant Matt. Hale and Ted and I. Three or four active male friends took the walk with us. In politics things at the moment seem to look quite right, but every form of lie is being circu- lated by the Democrats, and they intend un- [107] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN doubtedly to spring all kinds of sensational un- truths at the very end of the campaign. I have not any idea whether we will win or not. Before election I shall send you my guess as to the way the different States will vote, and then you can keep it and see how near to the truth I come. But of course you will remember that it is a mere guess, and that I may be utterly mistaken all along the line. In any event, even if I am beaten you must remember that we have had three years of great enjoyment out of the Presidency and that we are mighty lucky to have had them. I generally have people in to lunch, but at din- ner, thank fortune, we are usually alone. Though I have callers in the evening, I generally have an hour in which to sit with Mother and the others up in the library, talking and reading and watch- ing the bright wood fire. Ted and Ethel, as well as Archie and Quentin, are generally in Mother's room for twenty minutes or a half hour just before she dresses, according to immemorial custom. Last evening Mother and I and Ted and Ethel [108] COW-PUNCHER'S VISIT and Matt. Hale went to the theatre to see "The Yankee Consul," which was quite funny. BIG JIM WHITE ^ ^^ WTiite House, Dec. 3, 1904. Blessed Kermit: The other day while Major Loeffler was mar- shalling the usual stream of visitors from Eng- land, Germany, the Pacific slope, etc., of warm admirers from remote country places, of bridal couples, etc., etc., a huge man about six feet four, of middle age, but with every one of his great sinews and muscles as fit as ever, came in and asked to see me on the ground that he was a former friend. As the line passed he was intro- duced to me as Mr. White. I greeted him in the usual rather perfunctory manner, and the huge, rough-looking fellow shyly remarked, "Mr. Rose- velt, maybe you don't recollect me. I worked on the roundup with you twenty years ago next spring. My outfit joined yours at the mouth of the Box Alder." I gazed at him, and at once said, " Why it is big Jim." He was a great cow- [109] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN puncher and is still riding the range in north- western Nebraska. When I knew him he was a tremendous fighting man, but always liked me. Twice I had to interfere to prevent him from half murdering cowboys from my own ranch. I had him at lunch, with a mixed company of home and foreign notabilities. Don't worry about the lessons, old boy. I know you are studying hard. Don't get cast down. Sometimes in life, both at school and afterwards, fortune will go against any one, but if he just keeps pegging away and doesn't lose his courage things always take a turn for the better in the end. WINTER LIFE IN THE WHITE HOUSE White House, Dec. 17, 1904. Blessed Kermit: For a week the weather has been cold — down to zero at night and rarely above freezing in the shade at noon. In consequence the snow has lain well, and as there has been a waxing moon I have had the most delightful evening and night [110] INIOONLIGHT RIDE rides imaginable. I have been so busy that I have been unable to get away until after dark, but I went in the fur jacket Uncle Will presented to me as the fruit of his prize money in the Span- ish War; and the moonlight on the glittering snow made the rides lovelier than they would have been in the daytime. Sometimes Mother and Ted went with me, and the gallops were delight- ful. To-day it has snowed heavily again, but the snow has been so soft that I did not like to go out, and besides I have been worked up to the limit. There has been skating and sleigh-riding all the week. The new black "Jack" dog is becoming very much at home and very fond of the family. With Archie and Quentin I have finished "The Last of the Mohicans," and have now begun "The Deerslayer." They are as cunning as ever, and this reading to them in the evening gives me a chance to see them that I would not otherwise have, although sometimes it is rather hard to get time. Mother looks very young and pretty. This [111] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN afternoon stie was most busy, taking tlie little boys to the theatre and then going to hear Ethel sing. Ted, very swell in his first tail coat, is going out to take supper at Secretary Morton's, whose pretty daughter is coming out to-night. In a very few days now we shall see you again. PLAYMATE OF THE CHILDREN {To Mr. and Mrs. Emlen Roosevelt) White House, Jan. 4, 1905. I am really touched at the way in which your children as well as my own treat me as a friend and playmate. It has its comic side. Thus, the last day the boys were here they were all bent upon having me take them for a scramble down Rock Creek. Of course, there was absolutely no reason why they could not go alone, but they obviously felt that my presence was needed to give zest to the entertainment. Accordingly, off I went, with the two Russell boys, George, Jack, and Philip, and Ted, Kermit, and Archie, with one of Archie's friends — a sturdy little boy who, as Archie informed me, had played opposite to him in the position of centre rush last fall. I do [112 1 JAPANESE BOY'S LETTER not think that one of them saw anything incon- gruous in the President's getting as bedaubed with mud as they got, or in my wiggling and clambering around jutting rocks, through cracks, and up what were really small cliff faces, just like the rest of them; and whenever any one of them beat me at any point, he felt and expressed sim- ple and whole-hearted delight, exactly as if it had been a triumph over a rival of his own age. A JAPANESE boy's LETTER {To Dr. William Sturgis Bigelow) Dear Sturgis: "^"^ ^ouse, Jan. 14, 1905. Last year, when I had Professor Yamashita teach me the "Jiudo" — as they seem now to call Jiu Jitsu — the naval attache here. Commander Takashita, used to come around here and bring a young lad, Kitgaki, who is now entering Annapo- lis. I used to wrestle with them both. They were very fond of Archie and were very good to him. This Christmas Kitgaki sent from Annapo- lis a little present to Archie, who wrote to thank him, and Kitgaki sent him a letter back that we like so much that I thought you might enjoy it, [113 1 LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN as it shows so nice a trait in the Japanese char- acter. It runs as follows: "My dearest boy: "I received your nice letter. I thank you ever so much. I am very very glad that you have receive my small present. "I like you very very much. When I have been in Jiudo room with your father and you, your father was talking to us about the picture of the caverly officer. In that time, I saw some expression on your face. Another remembering of you is your bravery when you sleped down from a tall chair. The two rememberings can't leave from my head. "I returned here last Thursday and have plenty lesson, so my work is hard, hard, hard, more than Jiudo. "I hope your good health. "I am, "Sincerely yours, "A. KiTGAKI." Isn't it a nice letter ? [114] THINKING TOO MUCH OF HOME ON COUNTING DAYS AND WRESTLING ^ ^^ WHite House, Feb. 24, 1905. Darling Kermit: I puzzled a good deal over your marks. I am inclined to think that one explanation is that you have thought so much of home as to prevent your really putting your whole strength into your studies. It is most natural that you should count the days before coming home, and write as you do that it will only be 33 days, only 26 days, only 19 days, etc., but at the same time it seems to me that perhaps this means that you do not really put all your heart and all your head effort into your work; and that if you are able to, it would be far better to think just as little as possible about coming home and resolutely set yourself to put- ting your best thought into your work. It is an illustration of the old adage about putting your hand to the plow and then looking back. In after life, of course, it is always possible that at some time you may have to go away for a year or two from home to do some piece of work. If during that whole time you only thought day [ 115 ] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN after day of how soon you would get home I think you would find it difficult to do your best work; and maybe this feeling may be partly responsible for the trouble with the lessons at school. Wednesday, Washington's Birthday, I went to Philadelphia and made a speech at the University of Pennsylvania, took lunch with the Philadelphia City Troop and came home the same afternoon with less fatigue than most of my trips cost me; for I was able to dodge the awful evening banquet and the night on the train which taken together drive me nearly melancholy mad. Since Sunday we have not been able to ride. I still box with Grant, who has now become the champion middle- weight wrestler of the United States. Yesterday afternoon we had Professor Yamashita up here to wrestle with Grant. It was very interesting, but of course jiu jitsu and our wrestling are so far apart that it is difficult to make any comparison between them. Wrestling is simply a sport with rules almost as conventional as those of tennis, while jiu jitsu is really meant for practice in kill- ing or disabling our adversary. In consequence, [lie] JIU JITSU AND WRESTLING Grant did not know what to do except to put Yamashita on his back, and Yamashita v/as per- fectly content to be on his back. Inside of a minute Yamashita had choked Grant, and inside of two minutes more he got an elbow hold on him that would have enabled him to break his arm; so that there is no question but that he could have put Grant out. So far this made it evident that the jiu jitsu man could handle the ordinary wrestler. But Grant, in the actual wrestling and throwing was about as good as the Japanese, and he was so much stronger that he evidently hurt and wore out the Japanese. With a little prac- tice in the art I am sure that one of our big wrestlers or boxers, simply because of his greatly superior strength, would be able to kill any of those Japanese, who though very good men for their inches and pounds are altogether too small to hold their own against big, powerful, quick men who are as well trained. [117] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN SPBING IN WASHINGTON ^ T-^ White House, March 20, 1905. Dear Kermit: Poor John Hay has been pretty sick. He is going away to try to pick up his health by a sea voyage and rest. I earnestly hope he succeeds, not only because of my great personal fondness for him, but because from the standpoint of the nation it would be very difficult to replace him. Every Sunday on my way home from church I have been accustomed to stop in and see him. The conversation with him was always delightful, and during these Sunday morning talks we often decided important questions of public policy. I paid a scuttling visit to New York on Friday to give away Eleanor at her marriage, and to make two speeches — one to the Friendly Sons of St. Patrick and one to the Sons of the American Revolution. Mother and I have been riding a good deal, and the country is now lovely. Moreover, Ted and Matt and I have begun playing tennis. The birds have come back. Not only song- [118] PRESIDENTIAL SPEAKING TOUR sparrows and robins, but a winter wren, purple finches and tufted titmice are singing in the gar- den; and the other morning early Mother and I were waked up by the loud singing of a cardinal bird in the magnolia tree just outside our windows. Yesterday afternoon Archie and Quentin each had a little boy to see him. They climbed trees, sailed boats in the fountain, and dug in the sand- box like woodcocks. Poor Mr. Frank Travers died last night. I was very sorry. He has been a good friend to me. A HUNTING TRIP Colorado Springs, Colorado, ^ T^ April 14, 1905. Blessed Kermit: I hope you had as successful a trip in Florida as I have had in Texas and Oklahoma. The first six days were of the usual Presidential tour type, but much more pleasant than ordinarily, because I did not have to do quite as much speaking, and there was a certain irresponsibility about it all, due I suppose in part to the fact that I am no longer a candidate and am free from the ever- [119] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN lasting suspicion and ill-natured judgment which being a candidate entails. However, both in Kentucky, and especially in Texas, I was received with a warmth and heartiness that surprised me, w^hile the Rough Riders' reunion at San Antonio was delightful in every way. Then came the ^ve days wolf hunting in Okla- homa, and this was unalloyed pleasure, except for my uneasiness about Auntie Bye and poor little Sheffield. General Young, Dr. Lambert and Roly Fortescue were each in his own way just the nicest companions imaginable, my Texas hosts were too kind and friendly and open-hearted for anything. I want to have the whole party up at Washington next winter. The party got seventeen wolves, three coons, and any number of rattlesnakes. I was in at the death of eleven wolves. The other six wolves were killed by members of the party who were off with bunches of dogs in some place where I was not. I never took part in a run which ended in the death of a wolf without get- ting through the run in time to see the death. It was tremendous galloping over cut banks, prairie [120] ABERNETHY, WOLF CHOKER dog towns, flats, creek bottoms, everything. One run was nine miles long and I was the only man in at tKe finish except the professional wolf hunter Abernethy, who is a really wonderful fellow, catching the wolves alive by thrusting his gloved hands down between their jaws so that they can- not bite. He caught one wolf alive, tied up this woK, and tlien held it on the saddle, followed his dogs in a sev^en-mile run and helped kill another wolf. He has a pretty wife and five cunning chil- dren of whom he is very proud, and introduced them to me, and I liked him much. We were in the saddle eight or nine hours every day, and I am rather glad to have thirty-six hours' rest on the cars before starting on my Colorado bear hunt. ABERNETHY THE WOLF HUNTER Glen wood Springs, Colorado, Dear Ted: ^P"' ^O' >»«- I do wish you could have been along on this trip. It has been great fun. In Oklahoma our party got all told seventeen coyotes with the greyhounds. I was in at the death of eleven, the [121] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN only ones started by the dogs with which I hap- pened to be. In one run the three Easterners covered themselves with glory, as Dr. Lambert, Roly Fortescue and I were the only ones who got through excepting Abernethy, the wolf hunter. It happened because it was a nine-mL^e run and all the cowboys rode their horses to a standstill in the first three or four miles, after which I came bounding along, like Kermit in the paper chase, and got to the end in time to see the really remark- able feat of Abernethy jumping on to the wolf, thrusting his gloved hand into its mouth, and mastering it then and there. He never used a knife or a rope in taking these wolves, seizing them by sheer quickness and address and thrust- ing his hand into the wolf's mouth in such a way that it lost all power to bite. You would have loved Tom Burnett, the son of the big cattle man. He is a splendid fellow, about thirty years old, and just the ideal of what a young cattle man should be. Up here we have opened well. We have two cracker jacks as guides — John Goff, my old guide [122] THE TERRIER SKIP on the mountain lion hunt, and Jake Borah, who has somewhat the Seth Bullock type of face. We have about thirty dogs, including one absurd little terrier about half Jack's size, named Skip. Skip trots all day long with the hounds, excepting when he can persuade Mr. Stewart, or Dr. Lam- bert, or me to take him up for a ride, for which he is always begging. He is most affectionate and intelligent, but when there is a bear or lynx at bay he joins in the fight with all the fury of a bull dog, though I do not think he is much more effective than one of your Japanese mice would be. I should like to bring him home for Archie or Quentin. He would go everywhere with them and would ride Betsy or Algonquin. On the third day out I got a fine big black bear, an old male who would not tree, but made what they call in Mississippi a walking bay with the dogs, fighting them off all the time. The chase lasted nearly two hours and was ended by a hard scramble up a canyon side; and I made a pretty good shot at him as he was walking off with the pack around him. He killed one dog and crip- f 123 1 LETTERS TO fflS CHILDREN pled three that I think will recover, besides scratching others. My 30-40 Springfield worked to perfection on the bear. I suppose you are now in the thick of your studies and will have but little time to rest after the examinations. I shall be back about the 18th, and then we can take up our tennis again. Give my regards to Matt. I am particularly pleased that Maurice turned out so well. He has always been so pleasant to me that I had hoped he would turn out all right in the end. PRAIRIE GIRLS Divide Creek, Colo., April 26, 1905. Darling Ethel: Of course you remember the story of the little prairie girl. I always associate it with you. Well, again and again on this trip we would pass through prairie villages — bleak and lonely — with all the people in from miles about to see me. Among them were often dozens of young girls, often pretty, and as far as I could see much more happy [ 124 ] BEARS AND BOBCATS than the heroine of the story. One of them shook hands with me, and then, after much whispering, said: "We want to shake hands with the guard !" The "guard" proved to be Roly, who was very swell in his uniform, and whom they evidently thought much more attractive than the Presi- dent, both in age and looks. There are plenty of ranchmen round here; they drive over to camp to see me, usually bringing a cake, or some milk and eggs, and are very nice and friendly. About twenty of the men came out with me, "to see the President shoot a bear"; and fortunately I did so in the course of an ex- hausting twelve hours' ride. I am very home- sick for you all. BEARS, BOBCATS AND SKIP Glenwood Springs, Colorado, ^ ^ May 2, 1905. Blessed Kermit: I was delighted to get your letter. I am sorry you are having such a hard time in mathematics, but hope a couple of weeks will set you all right. We have had a very successful hunt. All told we [125] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN have obtained ten bear and three bobcats. Dr. Lambert has been a perfect trump. He is in the pink of condition, while for the last week I have been a little knocked out by the Cuban fever. Up to that time I was simply in splendid shape. There is a very cunning little dog named Skip, be- longing to John Goff's pack, who has completely adopted me. I think I shall take him home to Archie. He likes to ride on Dr. Lambert's horse, or mine, and though he is not as big as Jack, takes eager part in the fight with every bear and bobcat. I am sure you will enjoy your trip to Deadwood with Seth Bullock, and as soon as you return from Groton I shall write to him about it. I have now become very homesick for Mother, and shall be glad when the 12th of May comes and I am back in the White House. HOME AGAIN WITH SKIP Dear Kermit: "^^^ ^^^^^' ^^^ ^4' ^^^^' Here I am back again, and mighty glad to be back. It was perfectly delightful to see Mother f 126 1 SKIP IN THE WHITE HOUSE and the children, but it made me very homesick for you. Of course I was up to my ears in work as soon as I reached the White House, but in two or three days we shall be through it and can set- tle down into our old routine. Yesterday afternoon we played tennis, Herbert Knox Smith and I beating Matt and Murray. To-day I shall take cunning mother out for a ride. Skip accompanied me to Washington. He is not as yet entirely at home in the White House and rather clings to my companionship. I think he will soon be fond of Archie, who loves him dearly. Mother is kind to Skip, but she does not think he is an aristocrat as Jack is. He is a very cunning little dog all the same. Mother walked with me to church this morn- ing and both the past evenings we have been able to go out into the garden and sit on the stone benches near the fountain. The country is too lovely for anything, everything being a deep, rich, fresh green. I had a great time in Chicago with the labor [127] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN union men. They made what I regarded as a rather insolent demand upon me, and I gave them some perfectly straight talk about their duty and about the preservation of law and order. The trouble seems to be increasing there, and I may have to send Federal troops into the city — though I shall not do so unless it is necessary. SKIP IN THE WHITE HOUSE ^ ^^ White House, May 14, 1905. Dear Kermit: That was a good mark in Latin, and I am pleased with your steady improvement in it. Skip is housebroken, but he is like a real little Indian. He can stand any amount of hard work if there is a bear or bobcat ahead, but now that he is in the WTiite House he thinks he would much rather do nothing but sit about all day with his friends, and threatens to turn into a lapdog. But when we get him to Oyster Bay I think we can make him go out riding with us, and then I think he will be with Archie a great deal. He and Jack are rather jealous of one another. He is very [128] JAPANESE NAVAL OFFICERS cunning and friendly. I am immensely pleased with Mother's Virginia cottage and its name. I am going down there for Sunday with her some time soon. P. S. — Your marks have just come ! By George, you have worked hard and I am delighted. Three cheers ! OFFICERS OF TOGO's FLEET T>BAR Kermit: ^^^^^ ^^^'"' '^^^^ ^' ^^^^• Next Friday I am going down with Mother to spend a couple of days at Pine Knot, which Mother loves just as Ethel loves Fidelity. She and I have had some lovely rides together, and if I do not go riding with her I play tennis with Ted and some of his and my friends. Yesterday Ted and one of his friends played seven sets of tennis against Mr. Cooley and me and beat us four to three. In the evening Commander Takashita brought in half a dozen Japanese naval officers who had been with Togo's fleet off Port Arthur and had taken part in the fleet actions, the attacks with the torpedo-boat flotilla, and so forth. I [129] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN 3 tell you they were a formidable-looking set and evidently dead game fighters ! A PRESIDENT AS COOK T^ ^^ White House, June 11, 1905. Dear Kermit: Mother and I have just come home from a lovely trip to "Pine Knot.'* It is really a per- fectly delightful little place; the nicest little place of the kind you can imagine. Mother is a great deal more pleased with it than any child with any toy I ever saw. She went down the day be- fore, Thursday, and I followed on Friday morn- ing. Good Mr. Joe Wilmer met me at the sta- tion and we rode on horseback to "Round Top," where we met Mother and Mr. Willie Wilmer. We all had tea there and then drove to "Plain Dealing," where we had dinner. Of course I loved both "Round Top" and "Plain Dealing," and as for the two Mr. Wilmers, they are the most generous, thoughtful, self-effacing friends that any one could wish to see. After dinner we went over to "Pine Knot," put everything to [130] SIMPLE LIFE AT PINE KNOT order and went to bed. Next day we spent all by ourselves at "Pine Knot." In the morning I fried bacon and eggs, while Mother boiled the kettle for tea and laid the table. Breakfast was most successful, and then Mother washed the dishes and did most of the work, while I did odd jobs. Then we walked about the place, which is fifteen acres in all, saw the lovely spring, admired the pine trees and the oak trees, and then Mother lay in the hammock while I cut away some trees to give us a better view from the piazza. The piazza is the real feature of the house. It is broad and runs along the whole length and the roof is high near the wall, for it is a continuation of the roof of the house. It was lovely to sit there in the rocking-chairs and hear all the birds by daytime and at night the whippoorwills and owls and little forest folk. Inside the house is just a bare wall with one big room below, which is nice now, and will be still nicer when the chimneys are up and there is a fireplace in each end. A rough flight of stairs leads above, where there are two rooms, separated [1311 LETTERS TO fflS CHILDREN by a passageway. We did everything for our- selves, but all the food we had was sent over to us by the dear Wilmers, together with milk. We cooked it ourselves, so there was no one around the house to bother us at all. As we found that cleaning dishes took up an awful time we only took two meals a day, which was all we wanted. On Saturday evening I fried two chickens for dinner, while Mother boiled the tea, and we had cherries and wild strawberries, as well as biscuits and cornbread. To my pleasure Mother greatly enjoyed the fried chicken and admitted that what you children had said of the way I fried chicken was all true. In the evening we sat out a long time on the piazza, and then read indoors and then went to bed. Sunday morning we did not get up until nine. Then I fried Mother some beefsteak and some eggs in two frying-pans, and she liked them both very much. We went to church at the dear little church where the Wilmers' father and mother had been married, dined soon after two at "Plain Dealing," and then were driven over to the station to go back to Wash- [132 1 EFFORTS OF A PEACEMAKER ington. I rode the big black stallion — Chief — and enjoyed it thoroughly. Altogether we had a very nice holiday. I was lucky to be able to get it, for during the past fortnight, and indeed for a considerable time before, I have been carrying on negotiations with both Russia and Japan, together with side nego- tiations with Germany, France and England, to try to get the present war stopped. With infinite labor and by the exercise of a good deal of tact and judgment — if I do say it myself — I have finally gotten the Japanese and Russians to agree to meet to discuss the terms of peace. "WTiether they will be able to come to an agreement or not I can't say. But it is worth while to have ob- tained the chance of peace, and the only possible way to get this chance was to secure such an agreement of the two powers that they would meet and discuss the terms direct. Of course Japan will want to ask more than she ought to ask, and Russia to give less than she ought to give. Perhaps both sides will prove impracti- cable. Perhaps one will. But there is the chance [133] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN that they will prove sensible, and make a peace, which will really be for the interest of each as things are now. At any rate the experiment was worth trying. I have kept the secret very suc- cessfully, and my dealings with the Japanese in particular have been known to no one, so that the result is in the nature of a surprise. quentin's quaint sayings _ ^^ Oyster Bay, N. Y., Aug. 26, 1905. Dear Kermit: Mr. Phil Stewart and Dr. Lambert spent a night here, Quentin greeting the former with most cordial friendship, and in explanation stat- ing that he always liked to get acquainted with everybody. I take Hall to chop, and he plays tennis with Phil and Oliver, and rides witli Phil and Quentin. The Plunger (a submarine) has come to the Bay and I am going out in it this afternoon — or rather down on it. N. B. — I have just been down, for 50 minutes; it was very inter- esting. Last night I listened to Mother reading "The [134] PUNKEY DOODLE AND JOLLAPIN Lances of Lin wood" to the two little boys and then hearing them their prayers. Then I went into Archie's room, where they both showed all their china animals; I read them Laura E. Rich- ards' poems, including "How does the President take his tea?" They christened themselves Pun- key Doodle and JoUapin, from the chorus of this, and immediately afterwards I played with them on Archie's bed. First I would toss Punkey Doodle (Quentin) on Jollapin (Archie) and tickle JoUapin while Punkey Doodle squalled and wig- gled on top of him, and then reverse them and keep Punkey Doodle down by heaving Jollapin on him, while they both kicked and struggled until my shirt front looked very much the worse for wear. You doubtless remember yourself how bad it was for me, when I was dressed for dinner, to play with all you scamps when you were little. The other day a reporter asked Quentin some- thing about me; to which that affable and canny young gentleman responded, "Yes, I see him sometimes; but I know nothing of his family life." [135] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN ADVICE REGARDING NEWSPAPER ANNOYANCES When Theodore Roosevelt, Jr., entered Harvard as a freshman he had to pay the penalty of being a President's son. Newspaper reporters followed all his movements, especially in athletics, and he was the victim of many exaggerated and often purely fictitious accounts of his doings. His father wrote him indignant and sympathetic let- ters, two of which are reproduced here. Blessed old Ted: ^^^ ^^^^^^ ^^'^^^' ^' i^^^- The thing to do is to go on just as you have evidently been doing, attract as little attention as possible, do not make a fuss about the news- paper men, camera creatures, and idiots gener- ally, letting it be seen that you do not like them and avoid them, but not letting them betray you into any excessive irritation. I believe they will soon drop you, and it is just an unpleasant thing that you will have to live down. Ted, I have had an enormous number of unpleasant things that I have had to live down in my life at different times and you have begun to have them now. I [136] ADVICE AND SYMPATHY saw that you were not out on the football field on Saturday and was rather glad of it, as evidently those infernal idiots were eagerly waiting for you, but whenever you do go you will have to make up your mind that they will make it exceedingly unpleasant for you for once or twice, and you will just have to bear it; for you can never in the world afford to let them drive you away from anything you intend to do, whether it is football or anything else, and by going about your own business quietly and pleasantly, doing just what you would do if they were not there, generally they will get tired of it, and the boys themselves will see that it is not your fault, and will feel, if anything, rather a sympathy for you. Meanwhile I want you to know that we are all thinking of you and sympathizing with you the whole time; and it is a great comfort to me to have such con- fidence in you and to know that though these creatures can cause you a little trouble and make you feel a little downcast, they can not drive you one way or the other, or make you alter the course you have set out for yourself. [137] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN We were all of us, I am almost ashamed to say, rather blue at getting back in the White House, simply because we missed Sagamore Hill so much. But it is very beautiful and we feel very ungrate- ful at having even a passing fit of blueness, and we are enjoying it to the full now. I have just seen Archie dragging some fifty foot of hose pipe across the tennis court to play in the sand-box. I have been playing tennis with Mr. Pinchot, who beat me three sets to one, the only deuce-set being the one I won. This is just an occasion to show the stuff there IS in you. Do not let these newspaper creatures and kindred idiots drive you one hair's breadth from the line you had marked out in football or anything else. Avoid any fuss, if possible. Dear Ted- White House, October 11, 1905. I was delighted to find from your last letters that you are evidently having a pretty good time in spite of the newspaper and kodak creatures. I guess that nuisance is now pretty well abated. Every now and then they will do something hor- [ 138 ] FOOTBALL AND POLO rid; but I think you can safely, from now on, ignore them entirely. I shall be interested to hear how you get on, first of all with your studies, in which you seem to have started well, and next with football. I expected that you would find it hard to compete with the other candidates for the position of end, as they are mostly heavier than you; especially since you went off in weight owing to the excite- ment of your last weeks of holdiay in the sum- mer. Of course the fact that you are compara- tively light tells against you and gives you a good deal to overcome; and undoubtedly it was from this standpoint not a good thing that you were unable to lead a quieter life toward the end of your stay at Oyster Bay. So it is about the polo club. In my day we looked with suspicion upon all freshman societies, and the men who tried to get them up or were prominent in them rarely amounted to much in the class afterwards; and it has happened that I have heard rather unfavorably of the polo club. But it may be mere accident that I have thus [139] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN heard unfavorably about it, and in thirty years the attitude of the best fellows in college to such a thing as a freshman club may have changed so absolutely that my experience can be of no value. Exercise your own best judgment and form some idea of what the really best fellows in the class think on the subject. Do not make the mistake of thinking that the men who are merely undevel- oped are really the best fellows, no matter how pleasant and agreeable they are or how popular. Popularity is a good thing, but it is not something for which to sacrifice studies or athletics or good standing in any way; and sometimes to seek it overmuch is to lose it. I do not mean this as applying to you, but as applying to certain men who still have a great vogue at first in the class, and of whom you will naturally tend to think pretty well. In all these things I can only advise you in a very general way. You are on the ground. You know the men and the general college sentiment. You have gone in with the serious purpose of doing decently and honorably ; of standing' well in [140] DIVE THROUGH A WINDOW your studies; of showing that in athletics you mean business up to the extent of your capacity, and of getting the respect and liking of your class- mates so far as they can be legitimately obtained. As to the exact methods of carrying out these objects, I must trust to you. INCIDENTS OF A SOUTHERN TRIP Dk^r Kermit: "^'^ ^^^^^' N^^- ^' 1^^^- I had a great time in the South, and it was very nice indeed having Mr. John Mcllhenny and Mr. John Greenway with me. Of course I en- joyed most the three days when Mother was there. But I was so well received and had so many things to say which I was really glad to say, that the whole trip was a success. When I left New Orleans on the little lighthouse tender to go down to the gulf where the big war ship was awaiting me, we had a collision. I was stand- ing up at the time and the shock pitched me for- ward so that I dove right through the window, taking the glass all out except a jagged rim round [141] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN the very edge. But I went through so quickly that I received only some minute scratches on my face and hands which, however, bled pretty freely. I was very glad to come up the coast on the squadron of great armored cruisers. In the gulf the weather was hot and calm, but soon after rounding Florida and heading north- ward we ran into a gale. Admiral Brownson is a regular little gamecock and he drove the vessels to their limit. It was great fun to see the huge warcraft pounding steadily into the gale and forg- ing onward through the billows. Some of the waves were so high that the water came green over the flying bridge forward, and some of the officers were thrown down and badly bruised. One of the other ships lost a man overboard, and although we hunted for him an hour and a half we could not get him, and had a boat smashed in the endeavor. When I got back here I found sister, very inter- esting about her Eastern trip. She has had a great time, and what is more, she has behaved mighty well under rather trying circumstances. [142] S]MALL BOY SPORTS Ethel was a dear, as always, and the two little boys were as cunning as possible. Sister had brought them some very small Japanese fencing armor, which they had of course put on with glee, and were clumsily fencing with wooden two- handed swords. And they had also rigged up in the dark nursery a grewsome man with a pumpkin head, which I was ushered in to see, and in addi- tion to the regular eyes, nose, and saw-tooth mouth, Archie had carved in the back of the pumpkin the words "Pumpkin Giant," the can- dle inside illuminating it beautifully. Mother was waiting for me at the Navy Yard, looking too pretty for anything, when I arrived. She and I had a ride this afternoon. Of course I am up to my ears in work. The mornings are lovely now, crisp and fresh; after breakfast Mother and I walk around the grounds accompanied by Skip, and also by Slip- per, her bell tinkling loudly. The gardens are pretty dishevelled now, but the flowers that are left are still lovely; even yet some honeysuckle is blooming on the porch. [143 1 LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN POETS AND PRINCES _ „ White House, November 6, 1905. Dear Kermit: Just a line, for I really have nothing to say this week. I have caught up with my work. One day we had a rather forlorn little poet and his nice wife in at lunch. They made me feel quite badly by being so grateful at my having mentioned him in what I fear was a very patronizing and, indeed, almost supercilious way, as having written an occasional good poem. I am much struck by Robinson's two poems which you sent Mother. What a queer, mystical creature he is ! I did not understand one of them — that about the gardens — and I do not know that I like either of them quite as much as some of those in "The Children of the Night." But he certainly has got the real spirit of poetry in him. Whether he can make it come out I am not quite sure. Prince Louis of Battenberg has been here and I have been very much pleased with him. He is a really good admiral, and in addition he is a well- read and cultivated man and it was charming to [144] CURIOUS DINNER COMPANIONS talk with him. We had him and his nephew. Prince Alexander, a midshipman, to lunch alone with us, and we really enjoyed having them. At the State dinner he sat between me and Bona- parte, and I could not help smiling to myself in thinking that here was this British Admiral seated beside the American Secretary of the Navy — the American Secretary of the Navy being the grand- nephew of Napoleon and the grandson of Jerome, King of Westphalia; while the British Admiral was the grandson of a Hessian general who was the subject of King Jerome and served under Na- poleon, and then, by no means creditably, deserted him in the middle of the Battle of Leipsic. I am oflP to vote to-night. NOVELS AND GAMES ■rx t;^ WTiite House, November 19, 1905. Dear Kermit: I sympathize with every word you say in your letter, about Nicholas Nickleby, and about novels generally. Normally I only care for a novel if the ending is good, and I quite agree with you [145] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN that if the hero has to die he ought to die worthily and nobly, so that our sorrow at the tragedy shall be tempered with the joy and pride one always feels when a man does his duty well and bravely. There is quite enough sorrow and shame and suf- fering and baseness in real life, and there is no need for meeting it unnecessarily in fiction. As Police Commissioner it was my duty to deal with all kinds of squalid misery and hideous and un- speakable infamy, and I should have been worse than a coward if I had shrunk from doing what was necessary; but there would have been no use whatever in my reading novels detailing all this misery and squalor and crime, or at least in read- ing them as a steady thing. Now and then there is a powerful but sad story which really is inter- esting and which really does good; but normally the books which do good and the books which healthy people find interesting are those which are not in the least of the sugar-candy variety, but which, while portraying foulness and suffer- ing when they must be portrayed, yet have a joyous as well as a noble side. [ 146 ] LION AND HYENA STORIES We have had a very mild and open fall. I have played tennis a good deal, the French Am- bassador being now quite a steady playmate, as he and I play about alike; and I have ridden with Mother a great deal. Last Monday when Mother had gone to New York I had Selous, the great African hunter, to spend the day and night. He is a perfect old dear; just as simple and natural as can be and very interesting. I took him, with Bob Bacon, Gifford Pinchot, Ambassador Meyer and Jim Garfield, for a good scramble and climb in the afternoon, and they all came to dinner afterwards. Before we came down to dinner I got him to spend three-quarters of an hour in telling delightfully exciting lion and hyena stories to Ethel, Archie and Quentin. He told them most vividly and so enthralled the little boys that the next evening I had to tell them a large number myself. To-day is Quentin's birthday and he loved his gifts, perhaps most of all the weest, cunningest live pig you ever saw, presented him by Straus. Phil Stewart and his wife and boy, Wolcott (who [147] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN is Archie's age), spent a couple of nights here. One afternoon we had hide-and-go-seek, bringing down Mr. Garfield and the Garfield boys, and Archie turning up with the entire football team, who took a day off for the special purpose. We had obstacle races, hide-and-go-seek, blind-man's buff, and everything else; and there were times when I felt that there was a perfect shoal of small boys bursting in every direction up and down stairs, and through and over every conceivable object. Mother and I still walk around the grounds every day after breakfast. The gardens, of course, are very, very dishevelled now, the snap-dragons holding out better than any other flowers. CHRISTMAS PRESENT TO HIS OLD NURSE {To Mrs. Dora Watkins) _ _ White House, December 19, 1905. Dear Dolly: I wish you a merry Christmas, and want you to buy whatever you think you would like with the enclosed check for twenty dollars. It is now just [148] WINTER SPORTS forty years since you stopped being my nurse, when I was a little boy of seven, just one year younger than Quentin now is. I wish you could see the children play here in the White House grounds. For the last three days there has been snow, and Archie and Quentin and their cousin, cunning little Sheffield Cowles, and their other cousin, Mr. John Elliott's little girl, Helena, who is a perfect little dear, have been having all kinds of romps in the snow — coasting, having snowball fights, and doing everything — in the grounds back of the White House. This com- ing Saturday afternoon I have agreed to have a great play of hide-and-go-seek in the White House itself, not only with these children but with their various small friends. DICKENS AND THACKERAY T^ T^ WTiite House, February 3, 1906. Dear Kermit: I agree pretty well with your views of David Copperfield. Dora was very cunning and attrac- tive, but I am not sure that the husband would [149] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN retain enough respect for her to make life quite what it ought to be with her. This is a harsh criticism and I have known plenty of women of the Dora type whom I have felt were a good deal better than the men they married, and I have seen them sometimes make very happy homes. I also feel as you do that if a man had to struggle on and make his way it would be a great deal better to have some one like Sophie. Do you recollect that dinner at which David Copperfield and Traddles were, where they are described as seated at the dinner, one "in the glare of the red velvet lady" and the other "in the gloom of Hamlet's aunt".'^ I am so glad you like Thack- eray. "Pendennis" and "The Newcomes" and "Vanity Fair" I can read over and over again. Ted blew in to-day. I thinlv he has been studying pretty well this term and now he is through all his examinations but one. He hopes, and I do, that you will pay what attention you can to athletics. Play hockey, for instance, and try to get into shape for the mile run. I know it is too short a distance for you, but if you will try [ 150 ] PROUD OF ARCHIE'S ACT for the hare and hounds running and the mile, too, you may be able to try for the two miles when you go to Harvard. The weather was very mild early in the week. It has turned cold now; but Mother and I had a good ride yesterday, and Ted and I a good ride this afternoon, Ted on Grey Dawn. We have been having a perfect whirl of dinner engage- ments; but thank heavens they will stop shortly after Sister's wedding. A TRIBUTE TO ARCHIE T^ -^, White House, March 11, 1906. Dear Kermit: I agree pretty much to all your views both about Thackeray and Dickens, although you care for some of Thackeray of which I am not person- ally fond. Mother loves it all. Mother, by the way, has been reading "The Legend of Montrose" to the little boys and they are absorbed in it. She finds it hard to get anything that will appeal to both Archie and Quentin, as they possess such different natures. [151] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN I am quite proud of what Archie did the day before yesterday. Some of the bigger boys were throwing a baseball around outside of Mr. Sid- well's school and it hit one of them square in the eye, breaking all the blood-vessels and making an extremely dangerous hurt. The other boys were all rattled and could do nothing, finally sneaking off when Mr. Sid well appeared. Archie stood by and himself promptly suggested that the boy should go to Dr. Wilmer. Accordingly he scorched down to Dr. Wilmer's and said there was an emergency case for one of ^Ir. Sid well's boys, who was hurt in the eye, and could he bring him. Dr. Wilmer, who did not know Archie was there, sent out word to of course do so. So Archie scorched back on his wheel, got the boy (I do not know why Mr. Sidwell did not take him himself) and led him down to Dr. Wilmer's, who attended to his eye and had to send him at once to a hos- pital, Archie waiting until he heard the result and then coming home. Dr. Wilmer told me about it and said if Archie had not acted with such promptness the boy (who was four or five years [ 152] THE HEAVENLY SANDBOX older than Archie, by the way) would have lost his sight. What a heavenly place a sandbox is for two little boys ! Archie and Quentin play indus- triously in it during most of their spare moments when out in the grounds. I often look out of the office windows when I have a score of Senators and Congressmen with me and see them both hard at work arranging caverns or mountains, with runways for their marbles. Good-bye, blessed fellow. I shall think of you very often during the coming week, and I am so very glad that Mother is to be with you at your confirmation. PILLOW FIGHTS WITH THE BOYS -p. -r^ TMiite House, March 19, 1906. Darling Kermit: During the four days Mother was away I made a point of seeing the children each evening for three-quarters of an hour or so. Archie and Quentin are really great playmates. One night ri53l LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN I came up-stairs and found Quentin playing the pianola as hard as he could, while Archie would suddenly start from the end of the hall where the pianola was, and, accompanied by both the dogs, race as hard as he could the whole length of the White House clean to the other end of the hall and then tear back again. An- other evening as I came up-stairs I found Archie and Quentin having a great play, chuckling with laughter, Archie driving Quentin by his suspend- ers, which were fixed to the end of a pair of woollen reins. Then they would ambush me and we would have a vigorous pillow-fight, and after five or ten minutes of this we would go into Mother's room, and I would read them the book Mother had been reading them, "The Legend of Montrose." We just got through it the very last evening. Both Skip and Jack have welcomed Mother back with frantic joy, and this morning came in and lay on her bed as soon as she had finished breakfast — for she did not come down to either breakfast or lunch, as she is going to spend the night at Baltimore with tlie Bonapartes. [154] LONELY LITTLE SKIP I was so interested in your reading "Phineas Finn" that I ordered a copy myself. I have also ordered DeQuincey's works, as I find we have not got them at the White House. SORROWS OF SKIP Darling Archie: ^'*« House, AprU 1, 1906. Poor Skip is a very, very lonely little dog with- out his family. Each morning he comes up to see me at breakfast time and during most of breakfast (which I take in the hall just outside my room) Skip stands with his little paws on my lap. Then when I get through and sit down in the rocking-chair to read for fifteen or twenty minutes, Skip hops into my lap and stays there, just bathing himself in the companionship of the only one of his family he has left. The rest of the day he spends with the ushers, as I am so fright- fully busy that I am nowhere long enough for Skip to have any real satisfaction in my com- panionship. Poor Jack has never come home. We may never know what became of him. [155] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN "an interesting circus experience" Tx T^ White House, April 1, 1906. Darling Ethel: I haven't heard a word from the two new horses, and I rather believe that if there had been any marked improvement in either of them I should have heard. I gather that one at least and prob- ably both would be all right for me if I were twenty years younger, and would probably be all right for Ted now; but of course as things are at present I do not want a horse with which I have an interesting circus experience whenever we meet an automobile, or one which I cannot get to go in any particular direction without devoting an hour or two to the job. So that it looks as if old Rusty would be good enough for me for some time to come. I am going out on him with Senator Lodge this afternoon, and he will be all right and as fresh as paint, for he has been three days in the stable. But to-day is just a glorious spring day — March having ended as it began, with rain and snow — and I will have a good ride. I miss Mother and you children very much, of course, [156] WHITE HOUSE SOLITUDE but I believe you are having a good time, and I am really glad you are to see Havana. A BIG AND LONELY WHITE HOUSE White House, April 1, 1906. Darling Quenty-quee: Slipper and the kittens are doing finely. I think the kittens will be big enough for you to pet and have some satisfaction out of when you get home, although they will be pretty young still. I miss you all dreadfully, and the house feels big and lonely and full of echoes with nobody but me in it; and I do not hear any small scamps running up and down the hall just as hard as they can; or hear their voices while I am dressing; or suddenly look out through the windows of the office at the tennis ground and see them racing over it or play- ing in the sand-box. I love you very much. a new puppy and a new horse Dear Kermit: ^^^^ ^^^^^^ ^P"^ ^^' ^^^^• Last night I played "tickley" in their room [157] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREX with the two little boys. As we rolled and bounced over all three beds in the course of the plav, not to mention frantic chases under them, I think poor Mademoiselle was rather appalled at the result when we had finished. Archie's seven- weeks-old St, Bernard puppv has come and it is the dearest puppv imaginable; a huge, soft thing, which Archie carries around in his arms and which the whole family love. Yesterday I took a first ride on the new horse, Roswell, Captain Lee going along on Rusty as a kind of a nurse. Roswell is not yet four and he is really a green colt and not quite the horse I want at present, as I haven't time to fuss with him, and am afraid of letting the Sergeant ride him, as he does not get on well with him, and there is nobody else in our stable that can ride at all. He is a beautiful horse, a wonderful jumper, and does not pull at all. He shies pretty badly, especially when he meets an automobile; and when he leaves the stable or strikes a road that he thinks will take him home and is not allowed to go down it, he is apt to rear, which I do not like; but I am inclined to think that he will get [158] SPRING BIRDS AXD BLOOMS over these traits, and if I can arrange to have Lee handle him a couple of months more, and if Ted and I can regularly ride him down at Oyster Bay, I think that he will turn out all right. Mother and I walk ever^' morning through the grounds, which, of course, are lovely. Xot onlj^ are the song-sparrows and robins singing, but the white-throated sparrows, who will, I suppose, soon leave us for the North, are still in full song, and this morning they waked us up at daybreak sing- ing just outside the window. A QUENTIN ANECDOTE _ ^^ ^Miite House, AprH 22, 1906. Dkar Kermit: Ted has been as good and cunning as possible. He has completely recovered from the efiFects of ha%4ng his eye operated upon, and though the eye itself is a somewhat gruesome object, Ted is in the highest spirits. He goes back to Harvard to-day. As I write, Archie and Quentin are busily en- gaged in the sand-box and I look out across the f 159 1 LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN — 1 tennis-ground at them. If ever there was a heaven-sent treasure to small boys, that sand-box is the treasure. It was very cunning to see the delight various little children took in it at the egg-rolling on Easter Monday. Thanks to our decision in keeping out grown people and stop- ping everything at one o'clock, the egg-rolling really was a children's festival, and was pretty and not objectionable this year. The apple trees are now coming into bloom, including that big arched apple tree, under which Mother and I sit, by the fountain, on the stone bench. It is the apple tree that Mother particu- larly likes. . . . Did Quentin write his poems after you had gone.^^ I never can recollect whether you have seen them or not. He is a funny small person if ever there was one. The other day we were dis- cussing a really dreadful accident which had hap- pened; a Georgetown young man having taken out a young girl in a canoe on the river, the canoe upset and the girl was drowned; whereupon the young man, when he got home, took what seemed to us an exceedingly cold-blooded method of a [160] QUENTIN'S PRACTICAL VIEW special delivery letter to notify her parents. We were expressing our horror at his sending a special delivery letter, and Quentin solemnly chimed in with "Yes, he wasted ten cents." There was a moment's eloquent silence, and then we strove to explain to Quentin that what we were objecting to was not in the least the young man's spend- thrift attitude ! As I walk to and from the oflSce now the ter- race is fairly fragrant with the scent of the many- colored hyacinths which Mother has put out in boxes on the low stone walls. A VISIT TO WASHINGTON S BIRTHPLACE Dear Kermit: "^^'^ ^^"^^> ^p^^^ ^^' i^^^' On Saturday afternoon Mother and I started off on the Sylph, Mother having made up her mind I needed thirty -six hours' rest, and we had a delightful time together, and she was just as cunning as she could be. On Sunday Mother and I spent about four hours ashore, taking our lunch and walking up to the monument which marks where the house stood in which Washington was [161] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN born. It is a simple shaft. Every vestige of the house is destroyed, but a curious and rather pathetic thing is that, although it must be a hun- dred years since the place was deserted, there are still multitudes of flowers which must have come from those in the old garden. There are iris and narcissus and a little blue flower, with a neat, prim, clean smell that makes one feel as if it ought to be put with lavender into chests of fresh old linen. The narcissus in particular was growing around everywhere, together with real wild flow- ers like the painted columbine and star of Bethle- hem. It was a lovely spot on a headland over- looking a broad inlet from the Potomac. There was also the old graveyard or grave plot in which were the gravestones of Washington's father and mother and grandmother, all pretty nearly ruined. It was lovely warm weather and Mother and I enjoyed our walk through the funny lonely old country. Mocking-birds, meadow-larks, Carolina wrens, cardinals, and field sparrows were singing cheerfully. We came up the river in time to get home last evening. This morning Mother and I walked around the White House grounds as usual, f 162 1 LOVE OF FLOWERS I think I get more fond of flowers every year. The grounds are now at that high stage of beauty in which they will stay for the next two months. The buckeyes are in bloom, the pink dogwood, and the fragrant lilacs, which are almost the love- liest of the bushes; and then the flowers, including the lily -of -the- valley. I am dictating in the office. Archie is out by the sandbox playing with the hose. The playing consists in brandishing it around his head and trying to escape the falling water. He escapes about twice out of three times and must now be a perfect drowned rat. (I have just had him in to look at him and he is even more of a drowned rat than I supposed. He has gone out to complete his shower bath under strict promise that imme- diately afterwards he will go in and change his clothes.) Quentin is the funniest mite you ever saw and certainly a very original little fellow. He left at Mademoiselle's plate yesterday a large bunch of flowers with the inscription that they were from the fairies to her to reward her for taking care of "two goody good boys." Ethel is a dear. [ 163 ] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN MORE ABOUT DICKENS p. r^ ^ White House, May 20, 1906. Mother read us your note and I was interested in the discussion between you and over Dickens. Dickens' characters are really to a great extent personified attributes rather than individ- uals. In consequence, while there are not nearly as many who are actually like people one meets, as for instance in Thackeray, there are a great many more who possess characteristics which we encounter continually, though rarely as strongly developed as in the fictional originals. So Dick- ens' characters last almost as Bunyan's do. For instance, Jefferson Brick and Elijah Pogram and Hannibal Chollop are all real personifications of certain bad tendencies in American life, and I am continually thinking of or alluding to some news- paper editor or Senator or homicidal rowdy by one of these three names. I never met any one exactly like Uriah Heep, but now and then we see individuals show traits which make it easy to describe them, with reference to those traits, as Uriah Heep. It is just the same with Micawber. [164] LOVE FOR SAGAMORE HILL Mrs. Nickleby is not quite a real person, but she typifies, in accentuated form, traits which a great many real persons possess, and I am continually thinking of her when I meet them. There are half a dozen books of Dickens which have, I think, furnished more characters which are the constant companions of the ordinary educated man around us, than is true of any other half- dozen volumes published within the same period. NO PLACE LIKE SAGAMORE HILL {To Ethel, at Sagamore Hill) -, ^ White House, June 11, 1906. Blessed Ethel: I am very glad that what changes have been made in the house are good, and I look forward so eagerly to seeing them. After all, fond as I am of the White House and much though I have appreciated these years in it, there isn't any place in the world like home — like Sagamore Hill, where things are our own, with our own associations, and where it is real country. [165] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN ATTIC DELIGHTS T^ T^ White House, June 17, 1906. Blessed Ethel: Your letter delighted me. I read it over twice, and chuckled over it. By George, how entirely I sympathize with your feelings in the attic ! I know just what it is to get up into such a place and find the delightful, winding passages where one lay hidden with thrills of criminal delight, when the grownups were vainly demanding one's appearance at some legitimate and abhorred function; and then the once-beloved and half- forgotten treasures, and the emotions of peace and war, with reference to former companions, which they recall. I am not in the least surprised about the men- tal telepathy; there is much in it and in kindred things which are real and which at present we do not understand. The only trouble is that it usually gets mixed up with all kinds of fakes. I am glad the band had a healthy effect in reviving old Bleistein's youth. I shall never for- get the intense interest in life he always used to gain when we encountered an Italian with a bar- [166] A KITTEN IN DISTRESS rel organ and a bear — a combination that made Renown seek instant refuge in attempted suicide. I am really pleased that you are going to teach Sunday school. I think I told you that I taught it for seven years, most of the time in a mission class, my pupils being of a kind which furnished me plenty of vigorous excitement. PRESIDENTIAL RESCUE OF A KITTEN _. „ White House, June 24, 1906. Darling Ethel: To-day as I was marching to church, with Sloane some 25 yards behind, I suddenly saw two terriers racing to attack a kitten which was walk- ing down the sidewalk. I bounced forward with my umbrella, and after some active work put to flight the dogs while Sloane captured the kitten, which was a friendly, helpless little thing, evi- dently too well accustomed to being taken care of to know how to shift for itself. I inquired of all the bystanders and of people on the neighbor- ing porches to know if they knew who owned it; but as they all disclaimed, with many grins, any knowledge of it, I marched ahead with it in my [ 167 ] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN arms for about half a block. Then I saw a very nice colored woman and little colored girl looking out of the window of a small house with on the door a dressmaker's advertisement, and I turned and walked up the steps and asked if they did not want the kitten. They said they did, and the little girl welcomed it lovingly; so I felt I had got- ten it a home and continued toward church. Has the lordly Ted turned up yet ? Is his lov- ing sister able, unassisted, to reduce the size of his head, or does she need any assistance from her male parent ? Your affectionate father, -^ [ 168 ] ■^^y/ THE "WHY" AND ITS CREW SPORTS OF QUENTIN AND ARCHIE ^ -r^ Oyster Bay, Aug. 18, 1906. Dear Kermit: Quentin is the same cheerful pagan philosopher as ever. He swims like a little duck; rides well; stands quite severe injuries without complaint, and is really becoming a manly little fellow. Archie is devoted to the Why (sailboat). The other day while Mother and I were coming in, rowing, we met him sailing out, and it was too cunning for anything. The Why looks exactly like a little black wooden shoe with a sail in it, and the crew consisted of Archie, of one of his beloved playmates, a seaman from the Sylph, and of Skip — very alert and knowing. SKIP AND ARCHIE ^ ^^ White House, October 23, 1906. Dear Kermit: Archie is very cunning and has handicap races with Skip. He spreads his legs, bends over, and holds Skip between them. Then he says, "On [169] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN your mark, Skip, ready; go!" and shoves Skip back while he runs as hard as he possibly can to the other end of the hall, Skip scrambling wildly with his paws on the smooth floor until he can get started, when he races after Archie, the object being for Archie to reach the other end before Skip can overtake him. A TURKEY HUNT AT PINE KNOT TT^ ^^ White House, November 4, 1906. Dear Kermit: Just a line to tell you what a nice time we had at Pine Knot. Mother was as happy as she always is there, and as cunning and pretty as possible. As for me, I hunted faithfully through all three days, leaving the house at three o'clock one day, at four the next, and at five the next, so that I began my hunts in absolute night; but for- tunately we had a brilliant moon on each occa- sion. The first two days were failures. I did not see a turkey, and on each occasion when everybody was perfectly certain that I was going to see a turkey, something went wrong and the [170] WILD TURKEY HUNT turkey did not turn up. The last day I was out thirteen hours, and you may imagine how hungry I was when I got back, not to speak of being tired; though fortunately most of the time I was rambling around on horseback, so I was not done out. But in the afternoon at last luck changed, and then for once everything went right. The hunter who was with me marked a turkey in a point of pines stretching down from a forest into an open valley, with another forest on its farther side. I ran down to the end of the point and hid behind a bush. He walked down through the pines and the turkey came out and started to fly across the valley, offering me a beautiful side shot at about thirty -five yards — just the distance for my ten-bore. I killed it dead, and felt mighty happy as it came tumbling down through the air. In November, 1906, the President, accompanied by Mrs. Roosevelt, went to the Isthmus of Pan- ama, where he spent three days in inspecting the work of building the Panama Canal, returning by way of Porto Rico. The journey was taken on [171] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN the naval vessel Louisiana, and many of his let- ters to the children were written while on board that vessel and mailed after reaching Colon. PETS ON SHIPBOAKD On Board U. S. S. Louisiana, On the Way to Panama. _ ^ Sunday, November 11, 1906. Blessed Quentin: You would be amused at the pets they have aboard this ship. They have two young bull- dogs, a cat, three little raccoons, and a tiny Cuban goat. They seem to be very amicable with one another, although I think the cat has suspicions of all the rest. The coons clamber about every- where, and the other afternoon while I was sit- ting reading, I suddenly felt my finger seized in a pair of soft black paws and found the coon sniffing at it, making me feel a little uncomfortable lest it might think the finger something good to eat. The two puppies play endlessly. One of them belongs to Lieutenant Evans. The crew will not be allowed ashore at Panama or else I know they would pick up a whole raft of other pets there. [172] BATTLESHIPS AND GUNS The jackies seem especially fond of the little coons. A few minutes ago I saw one of the jackies stroll- ing about with a coon perched upon his shoulder, and now and then he would reach up his hand and give it a small piece of bread to eat. NAMES OP THE GUNS On Board U. S. S. Louisiana, _. . Sunday, November 11, 1906. Blessed Archie: I wish you were along with us, for you would thoroughly enjoy everything on this ship. We have had three days of perfect weather, while this great battleship with her two convoys, the great armored cruisers, Tennessee and Washington, have steamed steadily in column ahead southward through calm seas until now we are in the tropics. They are three as splendid ships of their class as there are afloat, save only the English Dread- naught. The Louisiana now has her gun-sights and everything is all in good shape for her to begin the practice of the duties which will make her crew as fit for man-of-war's work as the crew of any one of our other first-class battleships. [173] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN The men are such splendid-looking fellows, Ameri- cans of the best type, young, active, vigorous, with lots of intelligence. I was much amused at the names of the seven-inch guns, which in- clude Victor, Invincible, Peacemaker, together with Skidoo, and also one called Tedd and one called The Big Stick, REFLECTIONS ON THE WAY On Board U. S. S. Louisiana, Dear Kermit: So far this trip has been a great success, and I think Mother has really enjoyed it. As for me, I of course feel a little bored, as I always do on shipboard, but I have brought on a great variety of books, and am at this moment reading Milton's prose works, " Tacitus,'* and a German novel called "Jorn Uhl." Mother and I walk briskly up and down the deck together, or else sit aft under the awning, or in the after cabin, with the gun ports J open, and read; and I also spend a good deal of time on the forward bridge, and sometimes on the aft bridge, and of course have gone over the ship [174] VOYAGING IN THE TROPICS to inspect it with the Captain. It is a splendid thing to see one of these men-of-war, and it does really make one proud of one's country. Both the officers and the enlisted men are as fine a set as one could wish to see. It is a beautiful sight, these three great war- ships standing southward in close column, and almost as beautiful at night when we see not only the lights but the loom through the darkness of the ships astern. We are now in the tropics and I have thought a good deal of the time over eight years ago when I was sailing to Santiago in the fleet of warships and transports. It seems a strange thing to think of my now being President, going to visit the work of the Panama Canal which I have made possible. Mother, very pretty and dainty in white sum- mer clothes, came up on Sunday morning to see inspection and review, or whatever they call it, of the men. I usually spend half an hour on deck before Mother is dressed. Then we break- fast together alone; have also taken lunch alone, but at dinner have two or three officers to dine [175] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN with us. Doctor Rixey is along, and is a perfect dear, as always. EVENTS SINCE COLUMBUS's DISCOVERY November 14th. The fourth day out was in some respects the most interesting. All the forenoon we had Cuba on our right and most of the forenoon and part of the afternoon Hayti on our left; and in each case green, jungly shores and bold mountains — two great, beautiful, venomous tropic islands. These are historic seas and Mother and I have kept thinking of all that has happened in them since Columbus landed at San Salvador (which we also saw), the Spanish explorers, the buccaneers, the English and Dutch sea-dogs and adventurers, the great English and French fleets, the desperate fighting, the triumphs, the pestilences, of all the turbulence, the splendor and the wickedness, and the hot, evil, riotous life of the old planters and slave-owners, Spanish, French, English, and Dutch; — their extermination of the Indians, and bringing in of negro slaves, the decay of most of [176] OLD AND NEW WAR-SHIPS the islands, the turning of Hayti into a land of savage negroes, who have reverted to voodooism and cannibalism; the effort we are now making to bring Cuba and Porto Rico forward. To-day is calm and beautiful, as all the days have been on our trip. We have just sighted the highest land of Panama ahead of us, and we shall be at anchor by two o'clock this afternoon; just a little less than six days from the time we left Washington. PRIDE IN AMERICA On Board U. S. S. Louisianay Dear Ted: I am very glad to have taken this trip, although as usual I am bored by the sea. Everything has been smooth as possible, and it has been lovely having Mother along. It gives me great pride in America to be aboard this great battleship and to see not only the material perfection of the ship herself in engines, guns and all arrange- ments, but the fine quality of the officers and crew. Have you ever read Smollett's novel, I think [177] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN "Roderick Random" or "Humphrey Clinker," in which the hero goes to sea? It gives me an awful idea of what a floating hell of filth, disease, tyranny, and cruelty a war-ship was in those days. Now every arrangement is as clean and healthful as possible. The men can bathe and do bathe as often as cleanliness requires. Their fare is excellent and they are as self-respecting a set as can be imagined. I am no great believer in the superiority of times past; and I have no question that the officers and men of our Navy now are in point of fighting capacity better than in the times of Drake and Nelson; and morally and in physical surroundings the advantage is infinitely in our favor. It was delightful to have you two or three days at Washington. Blessed old fellow, you had a pretty hard time in college this fall; but it can't be helped, Ted; as one grows older the bitter and the sweet keep coming together. The only thing to do is to grin and bear it, to flinch as little as possible under the punishment, and to keep pegging steadily away until the luck turns. [178] SIGHTS IN PANAMA WHAT THE PRESIDENT SAW AT PANAMA U. S. S. Louisiana, ^ ^^ At Sea, November 20, 1906. Dear Kermit: Our visit to Panama was most successful as well as most interesting. We were there three days and we worked from morning till night. The second day I was up at a quarter to six and got to bed at a quarter of twelve, and I do not believe that in the intervening time, save when I was dressing, there were ten consecutive minutes when I was not busily at work in some shape or form. For two days there [were] uninterrupted tropic rains without a glimpse of the sun, and the Chagres River rose in a flood, higher than any for fifteen years; so that we saw the climate at its worst. It was just what I desired to do. It certainly adds to one's pleasure to have read history and to appreciate the picturesque. When on Wednesday we approached the coast, and the jungle-covered mountains looked clearer and clearer until we could see the surf beating on the shores, while there was hardly a sign of human [ 179 ] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN habitation, I kept thinking of the four centuries of wild and bloody romance, mixed with abject squalor and suffering, which had made up the history of the Isthmus until three years ago. I could see Balboa crossing at Darien, and the wars between the Spaniards and the Indians, and the settlement and the building up of the quaint walled Spanish towns; and the trade, across the seas by galleon, and over land by pack-train and river canoe, in gold and silver, in precious stones; and then the advent of the buccaneers, and of the English seamen, of Drake and Frobisher and Morgan, and many, many others, and the wild destruction they wrought. Then I thought of the rebellion against the Spanish dominion, and the uninterrupted and bloody wars that followed, the last occurring when I became President; wars, the victorious heroes of which have their pictures frescoed on the quaint rooms of the palace at Panama city, and in similar palaces in all capitals of these strange, turbulent little half-caste civiliza- tions. Meanwhile the Panama railroad had been built by Americans over a half century ago, with [180] AMERICAN CANAL SKILL appalling loss of life, so that it is said, of course with exaggeration, that every sleeper laid rep- resented the death of a man. Then the French canal company started work, and for two or three years did a good deal, until it became evident that the task far exceeded its powers; and then to miscalculation and inefficiency was added the hideous greed of adventurers, trying each to save something from the general wreck, and the com- pany closed with infamy and scandal. Now we have taken hold of the job. We have difficulties with our own people, of course. I haven't a doubt that it will take a little longer and cost a little more than men now appreciate, but I believe that the work is being done with a very high degree both of efficiency and honesty; and I am immensely struck by the character of American employees who are engaged, not merely in superintending the work, but in doing all the jobs that need skill and intelligence. The steam shovels, the dirt trains, the machine shops, and the like, are all filled with American engineers, conductors, machinists, boiler-makers, carpenters. [181] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN From the top to the bottom these men are so hardy, so efficient, so energetic, that it is a real pleasure to look at them. Stevens, the head en- gineer, is a big fellow, a man of daring and good sense, and burly power. All of these men are quite as formidable, and would, if it were neces- sary, do quite as much in battle as the crews of Drake and Morgan; but as it is, they are doing a work of infinitely more lasting consequence. Nothing whatever remains to show what Drake and Morgan did. They produced no real effect down here, but Stevens and his men are changing the face of the continent, are doing the greatest engineering feat of the ages, and the effect of their work will be felt while our civilization lasts. I went over everything that I could possibly go over in the time at my disposal. I examined the quarters of married and single men, white men and negroes. I went over the ground of the Gatun and La Boca dams; went through Panama and Colon, and spent a day in the Culebra cut, where the great work is being done. There the huge steam-shovels are hard at it; scooping [ 182] HUGE CANAL DIGGERS huge masses of rock and gravel and dirt previously loosened by the drillers and dynamite blasters, loading it on trains which take it away to some dump, either in the jungle or where the dams are to be built. They are eating steadily into the mountain, cutting it down and down. Little tracks are laid on the side-hills, rocks blasted out, and the great ninety-five ton steam-shovels work up like mountain howitzers until they come to where they can with advantage begin their work of eating into and destroying the mountainside. With intense energy men and machines do their task, the white men supervising matters and han- dling the machines, while the tens of thousands of black men do the rough manual labor where it is not worth while to have machines do it. It is an epic feat, and one of immense significance. The deluge of rain meant that many of the villages were knee-deep in water, while the fiooded rivers tore through the tropic forests. It is a real tropic forest, palms and bananas, bread- fruit trees, bamboos, lofty ceibas, and gorgeous butterflies and brilliant colored birds fluttering [183] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN among the orchids. There are beautiful flowers, too. All my old enthusiasm for natural history seemed to revive, and I would have given a good deal to have stayed and tried to collect specimens. It would be a good hunting country too; deer, and now and then jaguars and tapir, and great birds that they call wild turkeys; there are alligators in the rivers. One of the trained nurses from a hospital went to bathe in a pool last August and an alligator grabbed him by the legs and was making off with him, but was fortunately scared away, leaving the man badly injured. I tramped everywhere through the mud. Mother did not do the roughest work, and had time to see more of the really picturesque and beautiful side of the life, and really enjoyed herself. P. S. The Gatun dam will make a lake miles long, and the railroad now goes on what will be the bottom of this lake, and it was curious to think that in a few years great ships would be floating in water 100 feet above where we were. [184] PANAMA TO POUTO RICO ON THE WAY TO PORTO RICO U. S. S. Louisiana, ^ _, At Sea, November 20, 1906. Dear Ted: This is the third day out from Panama. We have been steaming steadily in the teeth of the trade wind. It has blown pretty hard, and the ship has pitched a little, but not enough to make either Mother or me uncomfortable. Panama was a great sight. In the first place it was strange and beautiful with its mass of luxuriant tropic jungle, with the treacherous tropic rivers trailing here and there through it; and it was lovely to see the orchids and brilliant butterflies and the strange birds and snakes and lizards, and finally the strange old Spanish towns and the queer thatch and bamboo huts of the ordinary natives. In the next place it is a tre- mendous sight to see the work on the canal going on. From the chief engineer and the chief sani- tary officer down to the last arrived machinist or time-keeper, the five thousand Americans at work on the Isthmus seemed to me an excep- [ 185 1 LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN tlonally able, energetic lot, some of them grum- bling, of course, but on the whole a mighty good lot of men. The West Indian negroes offer a greater problem, but they are doing pretty well also. I was astonished at the progress made. We spent the three days in working from dawn until long after darkness — dear Dr. Rixey being, of course, my faithful companion. Mother would see all she liked and then would go off on a little spree by herself, and she enjoyed it to the full. WHAT HE SAW IN PORTO RICO U. S. S. Louisiana, ^ T^ At Sea, November 23, 1906. Dear Kermit: We had a most interesting two days at Porto Rico. We landed on the south side of the island and were received by the Governor and the rest of the administration, including nice Mr. Laurance Grahame; then were given a reception by the Alcalde and people of Ponce; and then went straight across the island in automobiles to San Juan on the north shore. It was an eighty mile trip and really delightful. The road wound up [186] PORTO RICAN SCENERY to the high mountains of the middle island, through them, and then down again to the flat plain on the north shore. The scenery was beautiful. It was as thoroughl}^ tropical as Panama but much more livable. There were palms, tree-ferns, ba- nanas, mangoes, bamboos, and many other trees and multitudes of brilliant flowers. There was one vine called the dream-vine with flowers as big as great white water-lilies, which close up tight in the day-time and bloom at night. There were vines with masses of brilliant purple and pink flowers, and others with masses of little white flowers, which at night-time smell deliciously. There were trees studded over with huge white flowers, and others, the flamboyants such as I saw in the campaign at Santiago, are a mass of large scarlet blossoms in June, but which now had shed them. I thought the tree-ferns especially beau- tiful. The towns were just such as you saw in Cuba, quaint, brilliantly colored, with the old church or cathedral fronting the plaza, and the plaza always full of flowers. Of course the towns are dirty, but they are not nearly as dirty and [187] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN offensive as those of Italy; and there is something pathetic and childlike about the people. We are giving them a good government and the island is prospering. I never saw a finer set of young fellows than those engaged in the administration. Mr. Grahame, whom of course you remember, is the intimate friend and ally of the leaders of the administration, that is of Governor Beekman Winthrop and of the Secretary of State, Mr. Regis Post. Grahame is a perfect trump and such a handsome, athletic fellow, and a real Sir Galahad. Any wrong-doing, and especially any cruelty makes him flame with fearless indignation. He perfectly delighted the Porto Ricans and also immensely puzzled them by coming in his Scotch kilt to a Government ball. Accordingly, at my special request, I had him wear his kilt at the state dinner and reception the night we were at the palace. You know he is a descendant of Mont- rose, and although born in Canada, his parents were Scotch and he was educated in Scotland. Do tell Mr. Bob Fergie about him and his kilts when you next write him. [188] NIGHT IN PORTO RICO We spent the night at the palace, which is half palace and half castle, and was the residence of the old Spanish governors. It is nearly four hun- dred years old, and is a delightful building, with quaint gardens and a quaint sea-wall looking over the bay. There were colored lanterns light- ing up the gardens for the reception, and the view across the bay in the moonlight was lovely. Our rooms were as attractive as possible too, except that they were so very airy and open that we found it dij05cult to sleep — not that that much mattered as, thanks to the earliness of our start and the lateness of our reception, we had barely four hours in which we even tried to sleep. The next morning we came back in automobiles over different and even more beautiful roads. The mountain passes through and over which we went made us feel as if we were in a tropic Switzerland. We had to cross two or three rivers where big cream-colored oxen with yokes tied to their horns pulled the automobiles through the water. At one funny little village we had an open air lunch, very good, of chicken and eggs [189] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN and bread, and some wine contributed by a wealthy young Spaniard who rode up from a neighboring coffee ranch. Yesterday afternoon we embarked again, and that evening the crew gave a theatrical enter- tainment on the afterdeck, closing with three boxing bouts. I send you the program. It was great fun, the audience being equally enraptured with the sentimental songs about the JSag, and the sailor's true love and his mother, and with the jokes (the most relished of which related to the fact that bed-bugs were supposed to be so large that they had to be shot !) and the skits about the commissary and various persons and deeds on the ship. In a way the freedom of com- ment reminded me a little of the Roman triumphs, when the excellent legendaries recited in verse and prose, anything they chose concerning the hero in whose deeds they had shared and whose triumphs they were celebrating. The stage, well lighted, was built on the aftermost part of the deck. We sat in front with the oflScers, and the sailors behind us in masses on the deck, on the [190] "COMRADE AND SHIPMATE" aftermost turrets, on the bridge, and even in the fighting top of the aftermost mast. It was in- teresting to see their faces in the light. P. S. I forgot to tell you about the banners and inscriptions of welcome to me in Porto Rico. One of them which stretched across the road had on it "Welcome to Theodore and Mrs. Roose- velt." Last evening I really enjoyed a rather funny experience. There is an Army and Navy Union composed chiefly of enlisted men, but also of many officers, and they suddenly held a "gar- rison" meeting in the torpedo-room of this ship. There were about fifty enlisted men together with the Captain and myself. I v/as introduced as "comrade and shipmate Theodore Roosevelt, President of the United States." They were such a nice set of fellows, and I was really so pleased to be with them; so self-respecting, so earnest, and just the right type out of which to make the typical American fighting man who is also a good citizen. The meeting reminded me a good deal of a lodge meeting at Oyster Bay; [191] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN and of course those men are fundamentally of the same type as the shipwrights, railroad men and fishermen whom I met at the lodge, and who, by the way, are my chief backers politically and are the men who make up the real strength of this nation. SICKNESS OF ARCHIE ^ T^ White House, March 3, 1907. Dear Kermit: Poor little Archie has diphtheria, and we have had a wearing forty-eight hours. Of course it is harder upon Mother a good deal than upon me, because she spends her whole time with him to- gether with the trained nurse, while I simply must attend to my work during these closing hours of Congress (I have worked each day steadily up to half past seven and also in the evening); and only see Archiekins for twenty minutes or a half hour before dinner. The poor little fellow likes to have me put my hands on his forehead, for he says they smell so clean and soapy ! Last night he was very sick, but this morning he is better, and Dr. Rixey thinks everything is going [192] QUENTIN'S ASPIRATION well. Dr. Lambert is coming on this afternoon to see him. Ethel, who is away at Philadelphia, will be sent to stay with the Rixeys. Quentin, who has been exposed somewhat to infection, is not allowed to see other little boys, and is leading a career of splendid isolation among the ushers and policemen. Since I got back here I have not done a thing except work as the President must during the closing days of a session of Congress. Mother was, fortunately, getting much better, but now of course is having a very hard time of it nursing" darling little Archie. He is just as good as gold — so patient and loving. Yesterday that scamp Quentin said to Mademoiselle: "If only I had Archie's nature, and my head, wouldn't it be great .^" In all his sickness Archie remembered that to- day was Mademoiselle's birthday, and sent her his love and congratulations — which promptly reduced good Mademoiselle to tears. [193] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN AT THE JAMESTOWN EXPOSITION ^ ^^ White House, April 29, 1907. Dearest Kermit: We really had an enjoyable trip to Jamestown. The guests were Mother's friend, Mrs. Johnson, a Virginia lady who reminds me so much of Aunt Annie, my mother's sister, who throughout my childhood was almost as much associated in our home life as vny mother herself; Justice Moody, who was as delightful as he always is, and with whom it was a real pleasure to again have a chance to talk; Mr. and Mrs. Bob Bacon, who proved the very nicest guests of all and were compan- ionable and sympathetic at every point. Ethel was as good as gold and took much off of Mother's shoulders in the way of taking care of Quentin. Archie and Quentin had, of course, a heavenly time; went everywhere, below and aloft, and ate indifferently at all hours, both with the officers and enlisted men. We left liere Thursday after- noon, and on Friday morning passed in review through the foreign fleet and our own fleet of sixteen great battleships in addition to cruisers. It was an inspiring sight and one I would not [ 194 ] A WRINKLED PIE HAT have missed for a great deal. Then we went in a launch to the Exposition where I had the usual experience in such cases, made the usual speech, held the usual reception, went to the usual lunch, etc., etc. In the evening Mother and I got on the Syljph and went to Norfolk to dine. When the Sylph land- ed we were met by General Grant to convoy us to the house. I was finishing dressing, and Mother went out into the cabin and sat down to receive him. In a minute or two I came out and began to hunt for my hat. Mother sat very erect and pretty, looking at my efforts with a tolerance that gradually changed to impatience. Finally she arose to get her own cloak, and then I found that she had been sitting gracefully but firmly on the hat herself — it was a crush hat and it had been flattened until it looked like a wrinkled pie. Mother did not see what she had done so I speech- lessly thrust the hat toward her; but she still did not understand and took it as an inexplicable jest of mine merely saying, "Yes, dear," and with patient dignity, turned and went out of the door with General Grant. [195] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN The next morning we went on the Sylph up the James River, and on the return trip visited three of the dearest places you can imagine, Shir- ley, Westover, and Brandon. I do not know whether I loved most the places themselves or the quaint out-of-the-world Virginia gentlewomen in them. The houses, the grounds, the owners, all were too dear for anything and we loved them. That night we went back to the Mayflower and returned here yesterday, Sunday, afternoon. To-day spring weather seems really to have begun, and after lunch Mother and I sat under the apple-tree by the fountain. A purple finch was singing in the apple-tree overhead, and the white petals of the blossoms were silently falling. This afternoon Mother and I are going out riding with Senator Lodge. GENERAL KUROKI ^ ^^ White House, May 12, 1907. Dear Kermit: . . . General Kuroki and his suite are here and dined with us at a formal dinner last evening. Every- [ 196 ] WANDERING SKIP thing that he says has to be translated, but never- theless I had a really interesting talk with him, because I am pretty well acquainted with his campaigns. He impressed me much, as indeed all Japanese military and naval officers do. They are a formidable outfit. I want to try to keep on the best possible terms with Japan and never do her any wrong; but I want still more to see our navy maintained at the highest point of ef- ficiency, for it is the real keeper of the peace. TEMPORARY ABSENCE OF SKIP The other day Pete got into a most fearful fight and was dreadfully bitten. He was a very forlorn dog indeed when he came home. And on that particular day Skip disappeared and had not turned up when we went to bed. Poor Archie was very uneasy lest Skip should have gone the way of Jack; and Mother and I shared his un- easiness. But about two in the morning we both of us heard a sharp little bark down-stairs and knew it was Skip, anxious to be let in. So down I went and opened the door on the portico, and [197] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN Skip simply scuttled in and up to Archie's room, where Archie waked up enough to receive him literally with open arms and then went to sleep cuddled up to him. DEATH OF SKIP T» 4 Sagamore Hill, Sept. 21, 1907. Blessed Archiekins: We felt dreadfully homesick as you and Kermit drove away; when we pass along the bay front we always think of the dory; and we mourn dear little Skip, although perhaps it was as well the little doggie should pass painlessly away, after his happy little life; for the little fellow would have pined for you. Your letter was a great comfort; we'll send on the football suit and hope you'll enjoy the foot- ball. Of course it will all be new and rather hard at first. The house is "put up"; everything wrapped in white that can be, and all the rugs off the floors. Quentin is reduced to the secret service men for steady companionship. [198] SNAKES AND CONGRESSMEN quentin's snake adventure _, , White House, Sept. 28, 1907. Dearest Archie: Before we left Oyster Bay Quentin had col- lected two snakes. He lost one, which did not turn up again until an hour before departure, when he found it in one of the spare rooms. This one he left loose, and brought the other one to Washington, there being a variety of exciting adventures on the way; the snake wriggling out of his box once, and being upset on the floor once. The first day home Quentin was allowed not to go to school but to go about and renew all his friendships. Among other places that he visited was Schmid's animal store, where he left his little snake. Schmid presented him with three snakes, simply to pass the day with — a large and beautiful and very friendly king snake and two little wee snakes. Quentin came hurrying back on his roller skates and burst into the room to show me his treasures. I was discussing certain matters with the Attorney-General at the time, and the snakes were eagerly deposited in my lap. The king snake, [199] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN by the way, although most friendly with Quentin, had just been making a resolute effort to devour one of the smaller snakes. As Quentin and his menagerie were an interruption to my interview with the Department of Justice, I suggested that he go into the next room, where four Congressmen were drearily waiting until I should be at leisure. I thought that he and his snakes would probably enliven their waiting time. He at once fell in with the suggestion and rushed up to the Con- gressmen with the assurance that he would there find kindred spirits. They at first thought the snakes were wooden ones, and there was some perceptible recoil when they realized that they were alive. Then the king snake went up Quen- tin's sleeve — he was three or four feet long — and we hesitated to drag him back because his scales rendered that difiacult. The last I saw of Quentin, one Congressman was gingerly helping him off with his jacket, so as to let the snake crawl out of the upper end of the sleeve. [200] A WESTERN TRIP la the fall of 1907 the President made a tour through the West and South and went on a hunt- ing-trip in Louisiana. In accordance with his un- varying custom he wrote regularly to his children while on his journeyings. TRIALS OF A TRAVELLING PRESIDENT On Board U. S. S. Mississippi, ^ ^ October 1, 1907. Dearest Ethel: The first part of my trip up to the time that we embarked on the river at Keokuk was just about in the ordinary style. I had continually to rush out to wave at the people at the towns through which the train passed. If the train stopped anywhere I had to make a very short speech to several hundred people who evidently thought they liked me, and whom I really liked, but to whom I had nothing in the world to say. At Canton and Keokuk I went through the usual solemn festivities — the committee of reception and the guard of honor, with the open carriage, the lines of enthusiastic fellow-citizens to whom I bowed continually right and left, the speech [201] LETTERS TO fflS CHILDREN which in each ease I thought went off rather better than I had dared hope — for I felt as if I had spoken myself out. When I got on the boat, however, times grew easier. I still have to rush out con- tinually, stand on the front part of the deck, and wave at groups of people on shore, and at stern- wheel steamboats draped with American flags and loaded with enthusiastic excursionists. But I have a great deal of time to myself, and by gentle firmness I think I have succeeded in impressing on my good hosts that I rather resent allopathic doses of information about shoals and dykes, the amount of sand per cubic foot of water, the quan- tity of manufactures supplied by each river town, etc. CHANGES OF THREE CENTURIES On Board U. S. S. Mississippi, ^ T^ October 1, 1907. Dear Kermit: . . . After speaking at Keokuk this morning we got aboard this brand new stern-wheel steamer of the regular Mississippi type and started down-stream. I went up on the texas and of course felt an al- most irresistible desire to ask the pilot about Mark Twain. It is a broad, shallow, muddy [ 202 ] MISSISSIPPI RIVER SIGHTS river, at places the channel being barely wide enough for the boat to go through, though to my inexperienced eyes the whole river looks like a channel. The bottom lands, Illinois on one side and Missouri on the other, are sometimes over- grown with forests and sometimes great rich corn- fields, with here and there a house, here and there villages, and now and then a little town. At every such place all the people of the neighborhood have gathered to greet me. The water-front of the towns would be filled with a dense packed mass of men, women, and children, waving flags. The little villages have not only their own population, but also the farmers who have driven in in their wagons with their wives and children from a dozen miles back — just such farmers as came to see you and the cavalry on your march through Iowa last summer. It is my first trip on the Mississippi, and I am greatly interested in it. How wonderful in its rapidity of movement has been the history of our country, compared with the history of the old world. For untold ages this river had been flow- ing through the lonely continent, not very greatly [203] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN changed since the close of the Pleistocene. Dur- ing all these myriads of years the prairie and the forest came down to its banks. The immense herds of the buffalo and the elk wandered along them season after season, and the Indian hunters on foot or in canoes trudged along the banks or skimmed the water. Probably a thousand years saw no change that would have been noticeable to our eyes. Then three centuries ago began the work of change. For a century its effects were not perceptible. Just nothing but an occasional French fleet or wild half savage French-Canadian explorer passing up or down the river or one of its branches in an Indian canoe; then the first faint changes, the building of one or two little French fur traders' hamlets, the passing of one or two British officers' boats, and the very rare appearance of the uncouth American backwoods- man. Then the change came with a rush. Our settlers reached the head-waters of the Ohio, and flat- boats and keel-boats began to go down to the mouth of the Mississippi, and the Indians and [204] FIEST AMERICAN CITIES the game they followed began their last great march to the west. For ages they had marched back and forth, but from this march there was never to be a return. Then the day of steamboat traffic began, and the growth of the first American cities and states along the river with their strength and their squalor and their raw pride. Then this mighty steamboat traffic passed its zenith and collapsed, and for a generation the river towns have dwindled compared with the towns which took their importance from the growth of the railroads. I think of it all as I pass down the river. October 4. . . . We are steaming down the river now between Tennessee and Arkansas. The forest comes down a little denser to the bank, the houses do not look quite so well kept; other- wise there is not much change. There are a dozen steamers accompanying us, filled with delegates from various river cities. The people are all out on the banks to greet us still. Moreover, at night, no matter what the hour is that we pass a town, it is generally illuminated, and sometimes whistles [205] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN and noisy greetings, while our steamboats whistle in equally noisy response, so that our sleep is apt to be broken. Seventeen governors of different states are along, in a boat by themselves. I have seen a good deal of them, however, and it has been of real use to me, especially as regards two or three problems that are up. At St. Louis there was an enormous multitude of people out to see us. The procession was in a drenching rain, in which I stood bareheaded, smiling affably and waving my drowned hat to those hardy members of the crowd who declined to go to shelter. At Cairo, I was also greeted with great enthusiasm, and I was interested to find that there was still extreme bitterness felt over Dickens's description of the town and the people in "Martin Chuzzle- wit" sixty -five years ago. PECULIARITIES OF MISSISSIPPI STEAMBOATS On Board U. S. S. Mississippi, _ . Oct. 1, 1907. Dear Archie: . . . I am now on what I believe will be my last trip of any consequence while I am President. [206] MISSISSIPPI STEAMERS Until I got to Keokuk, Iowa, it was about like any other trip, but it is now pleasant going down the Mississippi, though I admit that I would rather be at home. We are on a funny, stern-wheel steamer. Mr. John Mcllhenny is with me, and Capt. Seth Bullock among others. We have seen wild geese and ducks and cormorants on the river, and the people everywhere come out in boats and throng or cluster on the banks to greet us. October 4. You would be greatly amused at these steamboats, and I think you will like your trip up the Mississippi next spring, if only every- thing goes right, and Mother is able to make it. There is no hold to the boat, just a flat bottom with a deck, and on this deck a foot or so above the water stands the engine-room, completely open at the sides and all the machinery visible as you come up to the boat. Both ends are blunt, and the gangways are drawn up to big cranes. Of course the boats could not stand any kind of a sea, but here they are very useful, for they are shallow and do not get hurt when they bump into the bank or one another. The river runs down in a broad, swirling, brown current, and nobody [207] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN but an expert could tell the channel. One pilot or another is up in the texas all day long and all night. Now the channel goes close under one bank, then we have to cross the river and go under the other bank; then there will come a deep spot when we can go anywhere. Then we wind in and out among shoals and sand-bars. At night the steamers are all lighted up, for there are a dozen of them in company with us. It is nice to look back at them as they twist after us in a Ion? winding line down the river. THE LONE CAT OF THE CAMP ^ ^ Stamboul, La., Oct. 13, 1907. Darling Quentin: When we shifted camp we came down here and found a funny little wooden shanty, put up by some people who now and then come out here and sleep in it when they fish or shoot. The only living thing around it was a pussy-cat. She was most friendly and pleasant, and we found that she had been living here for two years. When people were in the neighborhood, she would take [208] A FOREST FANATIC what scraps she could get, but the rest of the time she would catch her own game for herself. She was pretty thin when we came, and has already fattened visibly. She was not in the least dis- concerted by the appearance of the hounds, and none of them paid the slightest attention to her when she wandered about among them. We are camped on the edge of a lake. This morning before breakfast I had a good swim in it, the water being warmer than the air, and this evening I rowed on it in the moonlight. Every night we hear the great owls hoot and laugh in uncanny fashion. Camp on Tenesas Bayou, ^ ^ Oct. 6, 1907. Darling Ethel: Here we are in camp. It is very picturesque, and as comfortable as possible. We have a big fly tent for the horses; the hounds sleep with them, or with the donkeys ! There is a white hunter, Ben Lily, who has just joined us, who is a really remarkable character. He literally lives in the woods. He joined us early this morning, with one dog. He had tramped for twenty-four [209] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN hours through the woods, without food or water, and had slept a couple of hours in a crooked tree, like a wild turkey. He has a mild, gentle face, blue eyes, and full beard; he is a religious fanatic, and is as hardy as a bear or elk, literally caring nothing for fatigue and exposure, which we couldn't stand at all. He doesn't seem to consider the 24 hours' trip he has just made, any more than I should a half hour's walk before breakfast. He quotes the preacher Talmage continually. This is a black belt. The people are almost all negroes, curious creatures, some of them with In- [210] WILDCAT PECULIARITIES dian blood, like those in "Voodoo Tales." Yes- terday we met two little negresses riding one mule, bare-legged, with a rope bridle. -, . Tenesas Bayou, Oct. 10, 1907. Blessed Archie: I just loved your letter. I was so glad to hear from you. I was afraid you would have trouble with your Latin. What a funny little fellow Op- dyke must be; I am glad you like him. How do you get on at football? We have found no bear. I shot a deer; I sent a picture of it to Kermit. [211] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN A small boy here caught several wildcats. When one was in the trap he would push a box towards it, and it would itself get into it, to hide; and so he would capture it alive. But one, in- stead of getting into the box, combed the hair of the small boy ! We have a great many hounds in camp; at night they gaze solemnly into the fire. [212] DR. LAMBERT FISHING Dr. Lambert has caught a good many bass, which we have enjoyed at the camp table. T-. . Bear Bayou, Oct. 16, 1907. Darling Archie: We have had no luck with the bear; but we have killed as many deer as we needed for meat, and the hounds caught a wildcat. Our camp is as comfortable as possible, and we have great camp fires at night. One of the bear-hunting planters with me told [213] 214] [215] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN me he once saw a bear, when overtaken by the hounds, lie down flat on its back with all its legs stretched out, while the dogs barked furiously all around it. Suddenly the bear sat up with a jump, and frightened all the dogs so that they nearly turned back somersaults. At this camp there is a nice tame pussy-cat which lies out here all the time, catching birds, mice, or lizards; but very friendly with any party of hunters which happens along. P. S. — I have just killed a bear; I have written Kermit about it. SHOOTING THE BEAR -pv Tirn- ^^ route to Washington, Oct. 22, 1907. "Bad old father" is coming back after a suc- cessful trip. It was a success in every way, in- cluding the bear hunt; but in the case of the bear hunt we only just m.ade it successful and no more, for it was not until the twelfth day of steady hunt- ing that I got my bear. Then I shot it in the most approved hunter's style, going up on it in a cane- brake as it made a walking bay before the dogs. [ 216 ] SCAMP AND KITCHEN CAT I also killed a deer — more by luck than anything else, as it was a difficult shot. quentin's "exquisite jest" _ ^ White House, Jan. 2, 1908. Dear Archie: Friday night Quentin had three friends, in- cluding the little Taft boy, to spend the night with him. They passed an evening and night of delirious rapture, it being a continuous rough- house save when they would fall asleep for an hour or two from sheer exhaustion. I interfered but once, and that was to stop an exquisite jest of Quentin's, which consisted in procuring sul- phureted hydrogen to be used on the other boys when they got into bed. They played hard, and it made me realize how old I had grow^n and how very busy I had been these last few years, to find that they had grown so that I was not needed in the play. Do you recollect how we all of us used to play hide-and-go-seek in the Wliite House ? and have obstacle races down the hall when you brought in your friends ? Mother continues much attached to Scamp, [217 1 LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN who is certainly a cunning little dog. He is very affectionate, but so exceedingly busy when we are out on the grounds, that we only catch glimpses of him zigzagging at full speed from one end of the place to the other. The kitchen cat and he have strained relations but have not yet come to open hostility. ^ , White House, Jan. 27, 1908. Dear Archie: Scamp is really a cunning little dog, but he takes such an extremely keen interest in hunting, and is so active, that when he is out on the grounds with us we merely catch glimpses of him as he flashes by. The other night after the Judicial Re- ception when we went up-stairs to supper the kitchen cat suddenly appeared parading down the hall with great friendliness, and was forthwith ex- iled to her proper home again. TOM PINCH ^ „ White House, February 23, 1908. Dearest Kermit: I quite agree with you about Tom Pinch. He is a despicable kind of character; just the kind of character Dickens liked, because he had him- [218 1 MERITS AND DEFECTS OF DICKENS self a thick streak of maudlin sentimentality of the kind that, as somebody phrased it, "made him wallow naked in the pathetic." It always interests me about Dickens to think how much first-class work he did and how almost all of it was mixed up with every kind of cheap, second- rate matter. I am very fond of him. There are innumerable characters that he has created which symbolize vices, virtues, follies, and the like almost as well as the characters in Bunyan; and there- fore I think the wise thing to do is simply to skip the bosh and twaddle and vulgarity and untruth, and get the benefit out of the rest. Of course one fundamental difference between Thackeray and Dickens is that Thackeray was a gentleman and Dickens was not. But a man might do some mighty good work and not be a gentleman in any sense. "martin chuzzlewit" ^ T- White House, February 29, 1908. Dearest Kermit: Of course I entirely agree with you about "Mar- tin Chuzzlewit." But the point seems to me that the preposterous perversion of truth and the 111- [219 1 LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN nature and malice of the book are of consequence chiefly as indicating Dickens' own character, about which I care not a rap; whereas, the char- acters in American shortcomings and vices and foUies as typified are immortal, and, moreover, can be studied with great profit by all of us to- day. Dickens was an ill-natured, selfish cad and boor, who had no understanding of what the word gentleman meant, and no appreciation of hos- pitality or good treatment. He was utterly in- capable of seeing the high purpose and the real greatness which (in spite of the presence also of much that was bad or vile) could have been visible all around him here in America to any man whose vision was both keen and lofty. He could not see the qualities of the young men grow- ing up here, though it was these qualities that enabled these men to conquer the West and to fight to a finish the great Civil War, and though they were to produce leadership like that of Lin- coln, Lee, and Grant. Naturally he would think there was no gentleman in New York, because by no possibility could he have recognized a gentle- [220] NOTABLE DICKENS QUOTATION man if he had met one. Naturally he would con- demn all America because he had not the soul to see what America was really doing. But he was in his element in describing with bitter truth- fulness Scadder and Jefferson Brick, and Elijah Pogram, and Hannibal ChoUup, and Mrs. Hominy and the various other characters, great and small, that have always made me enjoy "Martin Chuz- zlewit." Most of these characters we still have with us. GOOD READING FOR PACIFISTS ^ T^ March 4, 1908. Dearest Kermit: You have recently been writing me about Dickens. Senator Lodge gave me the following first-class quotation from a piece by Dickens about "Proposals for Amusing Posterity": "And I would suggest that if a body of gentle- men possessing their full phrenological share of the combative and antagonistic organs, could only be induced to form themselves into a society for Declaiming about Peace, with a very con- siderable war-whoop against all non-declaimers; [ 221 ] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN and if they could only be prevailed upon to sum up eloquently the many unspeakable miseries and horrors of War, and to present them to their own country as a conclusive reason for its being un- defended against War, and becoming a prey of the first despot who might choose to inflict those miseries and horrors — why then I really beUeve we should have got to the very best joke we could hope to have in our whole Complete Jest-Book for Posterity and might fold our arms and rest convinced that we had done enough for that dis- cerning Patriarch's amusement." This ought to be read before all the tomfool peace societies and anti-imperialist societies of the present-day. quentin as a ball-player Dearest Archie : ''"^''^ «°"^<=' ^^^^^^ «' ^^"^^ Yesterday morning Quentin brought down all his Force School baseball nine to practise on the White House grounds. It was great fun to see them, and Quentin made a run. It reminded me of when you used to come down with the Friend's [222] "MEANEST KID IN TOWN" School eleven. Moreover, I was reminded of the occasional rows in the eleven by an outburst in connection with the nine which resulted in their putting off of it a small boy who Quentin assured me was the "meanest kid in town." I like to see Quentin practising baseball. It gives me hopes that one of my boys will not take after his father in this respect, and will prove able to play the national game ! Ethel has a delightful new dog — a white bull terrier — not much more than a puppy as yet. She has named it Mike and it seems very affec- tionate. Scamp is really an extraordinary ratter, and kills a great many rats in the White House, in the cellars and on the lower floor and among the machinery. He is really a very nice little dog. T^ . White House, March 15, 1908. Dearest Archie: Quentin is now taking a great interest in base- ball. Yesterday the Force School nine, on which he plays second base, played the P Street nine on the White House grounds where Quentin has [223] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN marked out a diamond. The Force School nine was victorious by a score of 22 to 5. I told Quen- tin I was afraid the P Street boys must have felt badly and he answered, "Oh, I guess not; you see I filled them up with lemonade afterward ! " Charlie Taft is on his nine. Did you hear of the dreadful time Ethel had with her new bull terrier, Mike.^ She was out riding with Fitz Lee, who was on Roswell, and Mike was following. They suppose that Fidelity must have accidentally kicked Mike. The first they knew the bulldog sprang at the little mare's throat. She fought pluckily, rearing and plung- ing, and shook him off, and then Ethel galloped away. As soon as she halted, Mike overtook her and attacked Fidelity again. He seized her by the shoulder and tried to seize her by the throat, and twice Ethel had to break away and gallop off, Fitz Lee endeavoring in vain to catch the dog. Finally he succeeded, just as Mike had got Fidelity by the hock. He had to give Mike a tremendous beating to restore him to obedience; but of course Mike will have to be disposed of. [224] A PRESIDENTIAL REBUKE Fidelity was bitten in several places and it was a wonder that Ethel was able to keep her seat, because naturally the frightened little mare reared and plunged and ran. FOUR SHEEPISH SMALL BOYS Dearest Aechie: ^''' ^ouse, April n, 1908. Ethel has bought on trial an eight-months bull- dog pup. He is very cunning, very friendly, and wriggles all over in a frantic desire to be petted. Quentin really seems to be getting on pretty well with his baseball. In each of the last two games he made a base hit and a run. I have just had to give him and three of his associates a dressing down — one of the three being Charlie Taft. Yesterday afternoon was rainy, and four of them played five hours inside the White House. They were very boisterous and were all the time on the verge of mischief, and finally they made spit-balls and deliberately put them on the por- traits. I did not discover it until after dinner, and then pulled Quentin out of bed and had him take them all off the portraits, and this morning [225] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN required him to bring in the three other culprits before me. I explained to them that they had acted like boors; that it would have been a dis- grace to have behaved so in any gentleman's house; that Quentin could have no friend to see him, and the other three could not come inside the White House, until I felt that a sufficient time had elapsed to serve as punishment. They were four very sheepish small boys when I got through with them. JOHN BURROUGHS AND THE FLYING SQUIRRELS ^ , White House, Mav 10, 1908. Dearest Archie: Mother and I had great fun at Pine Knot. Mr. Burroughs, whom I call Oom John, was with us and we greatly enjoyed having him. But one night he fell into great disgrace ! The flying squirrels that were there last Christmas had raised a brood, having built a large nest inside of the room in which you used to sleep and in which John Burroughs slept. Of course they held high carnival at night-time. Mother and I do not [226] RESTLESS FLYING SQUIRRELS mind them at all, and indeed rather like to hear them scrambling about, and then as a sequel to a sudden frantic fight between two of them, hear- ing or seeing one little fellow come plump down to the floor and scuttle off again to the wall. But one night they waked up John Burroughs and he spent a misguided hour hunting for the nest, and when he found it took it down and caught two of the young squirrels and put them in a basket. The next day under Mother's direction I took them out, getting my fingers somewhat bitten in the process, and loosed them in our room, where we had previously put back the nest. I do not think John Burroughs profited by his mis- conduct, because the squirrels were more active than ever that night both in his room and ours, the disturbance in their family affairs having evidently made them restless ! BEAUTY OF WHITE HOUSE GROUNDS Dearest Archie: "^"^ H''"'^' ^^^ ^'' ^^^S- Quentin is really doing pretty well with his baseball, and he is perfectly absorbed in it. He [227] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN now occasionally makes a base hit if the opposing pitcher is very bad; and his nine wins more than one-haK of its games. The grounds are too lovely for anything, and spring is here, or rather early summer, in full force. Mother's flower-gardens are now as beau- tiful as possible, and the iron railings of the fences south of them are covered with clematis and roses in bloom. The trees are in full foliage and the grass brilliant green, and my friends, the warblers, are trooping to the north in full force. QUENTIN AND A BEEHIVE ^ . White House, May 30, 1908. Dearest Archie: Quentin has met with many adventures this week; in spite of the fact that he has had a bad cough which has tended to interrupt the variety of his career. He has become greatly interested in bees, and the other day started down to get a beehive from somewhere, being accompanied by a mongrel looking small boy as to whose name I inquired. When repeated by Quentin it was [228] BEES IN SCHOOL obviously an Italian name. I asked who he was and Quentin responded: "Oh, his father keeps a fruit-stand." However, they got their bees all right and Quentin took the hive up to a school exhibit. There some of the bees got out and were left behind ("Poor homeless miserables," as Quen- tin remarked of them), and yesterday they at intervals added great zest to life in the classroom. The hive now reposes in the garden and Scamp surveys it for hours at a time with absorbed in- terest. After a while he will get to investigating it, and then he will find out more than he expects to. This afternoon Quentin was not allowed to play ball because of his cough, so he was keeping the score when a foul tip caught him in the eye. It was quite a bad blow, but Quentin was very plucky about it and declined to go in until the game was finished, an hour or so later. By that time his eye had completely shut up and he now has a most magnificent bandage around his head over that eye, and feels much like a baseball hero. I came in after dinner to take a look at him and [229 1 LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN to my immense amusement found that he was lying flat on his back in bed saying his prayers, while Mademoiselle was kneeling down. It took me a moment or two to grasp the fact that good Mademoiselle wished to impress on him that it was not right to say his prayers unless he knelt down, and as that in this case he could not kneel down she would do it in his place ! QUENTIN AND TURNER {To Mrs. Nicholas Longworth, Cincinnatiy Ohio) Oyster Bay, June 29, 1908. Quentin is really too funny for anything. He got his legs fearfully sunburned the other day, and they blistered, became inflamed, and ever- faithful Mother had to hold a clinic on him. Eye- ing his blistered and scarlet legs, he remarked, "They look like a Turner sunset, don't they.''" And then, after a pause, "I won't be caught again this way! quoth the raven, * Nevermore !' " I was not surprised at his quoting Poe, but I would like to know where the ten-year-old scamp picked up any knowledge of Turner's sunsets. [230] QUENTIN'S BUSINESS VENTURE QUENTIN AND THE PIG ^ T-- White House, October 17, 1908. Dearest Kermit: Quentin performed a characteristic feat yester- day. He heard that Schmidt, the animal man, wanted a small pig, and decided that he would turn an honest penny by supplying the want. So out in the neighborhood of his school he called on an elderly darkey who, he had seen, possessed little pigs; bought one; popped it into a bag; astutely dodged the school — having a well-founded distrust of how the boys would feel toward his passage with the pig — and took the car for home. By that time the pig had freed itself from the bag, and, as he explained, he journeyed in with a "small squealish pig" under his arm; but as the conductor was a friend of his he was not put off. He bought it for a dollar and sold it to Schmidt for a dollar and a quarter, and feels as if he had found a permanent line of business. Schmidt then festooned it in red ribbons and sent it to parade the streets. I gather that Quentin led [231 ] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN it around for part of the parade, but he was some- what vague on this point, evidently being a Httle uncertain as to our approval of the move. A PRESIDENTIAL FALL ^ . White House, Nov. 8, 1908. Dearest Archie: Quentin is getting along very well; he plays centre on his football eleven, and in a match for juniors in tennis he got into the semi-finals. What is more important, he seems to be doing very well with his studies, and to get on well with the boys, and is evidently beginning to like the school. He has shown himself very manly. Kermit is home now, and is a perfect dear. The other day while taking a scramble walk over Rock Creek, when I came to that smooth- face of rock which we get round by holding on to the little bit of knob that we call the Button, the top of this button came off between my thumb and forefinger. I hadn't supposed that I was putting much weight on it, but evidently I was, for I promptly lost my balance, and finding I [232] QUENTIN'S ACTIVE DAY was falling, I sprang out into the creek. There were big rocks in it, and the water was rather shallow, but I landed all right and didn't hurt myself the least bit in the world. MORE ABOUT QUENTIN ^ . White House, Nov. 22, 1908. Dearest Archie: I handed your note and the two dollar bill to Quentin, and he was perfectly delighted. It came in very handy, because poor Quentin has been in bed wdth his leg in a plaster cast, and the two dollars I think went to make up a fund with which he purchased a fascinating little steam-engine, which has been a great source of amusement to him. He is out to-day visiting some friends, al- though his leg is still in a cast. He has a great turn for mechanics. ^ . White House, Nov. 27, 1908. Blessed Archie: It is fine to hear from you and to know you are having a good time. Quentin, I am happy to say, is now thoroughly devoted to his school. [233] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN He feels that he is a real Episcopal High School boy, and takes the keenest interest in everything. Yesterday, Thanksgiving Day, he had various friends here. His leg was out of plaster and there was nothing he did not do. He roller-skated; he practised football; he had engineering work and electrical work; he went all around the city; he romped all over the White House; he went to the slaughter-house and got a pig for Thanks- giving dinner. Ethel is perfectly devoted to Ace, who adores her. The other day he was lost for a little while; he had gone off on a side street and unfortunately saw a cat in a stable and rushed in and killed it, and they had him tied up there when one of our men found him. In a way I know that Mother misses Scamp, but in another way she does not, for now all the squirrels are very tame and cunning and are hop- ping about the lawn and down on the paths all the time, so that we see them whenever we walk, and they are not in the least afraid of us. [234] ARCHIE AS A HUNTER ^ . White House, Dec. 3, 1908. Dearest Archie: I have a very strong presentiment that Santa Claus will not forget that watch ! Quentin went out shooting with Dr. Rixey on Monday and killed three rabbits, which I think was pretty good. He came back very dirty and very triumphant, and Mother, feeling just as trium- phant, brought him promptly over with his gun and his three rabbits to see me in the office. On most days now he rides out to school, usually on Achilles. Very shortly he will begin to spend his nights at the school, however. He has become sincerely attached to the school, and at the mo- ment thinks he would rather stay there than go to Groton; but this is a thought he will get over — with Mother's active assistance. He has all kinds of friends, including some who are on a hockey team with him here in the city. The hockey team apparently plays hockey now and then, but only very occasionally, and spends most of the time disciplining its own members. [235] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN In 1909, after retiring from the Presidency, Colonel Roosevelt went on a hunting trip in Africa, wi-iting as usual to his children while away. TRIBUTE TO KERMIT ^ ^ On the 'Nzor River, Nov. 13, 1909. Darling Ethel: Here we are, by a real tropical river, with game all around, and no human being within several days' journey. At night the hyenas come round the camp, uttering their queer howls; and once or twice we have heard lions; but unfortunately have never seen them. Kermit killed a leopard yesterday. He has really done so very well ! It is rare for a boy with his refined tastes and his genuine appreciation of literature — and of so much else — to be also an exceptionally bold and hardy sportsman. He is still altogether too reck- less; but by my hen-with-one-chicken attitude, I thinlc I shall get him out of Africa uninjured; and his keenness, cool nerve, horsemanship, hardi- hood, endurance, and good eyesight make him a really good wilderness hunter. We have become genuinely attached to Cunninghame and Tarle- [236] CHANT OF AFRICAN PORTERS ton, and all tkree naturalists, especially Heller; and also to our funny black attendants. The porters always amuse us; at this moment about thirty of them are bringing in the wood for the camp fires, which burn all night; and they are all chanting in chorus, the chant being nothing but the words ''Wood — plenty of wood to burn !" A Merry Christmas to you ! And to Archie and Quentin. How I wish I were to be with you all, no matter how cold it might be at Sagamore; but I suppose we shall be sweltering under mos- quito nets in Uganda. LONGING FOR HOME ^ ^ Campalla, Dec. 23, 1909. Blessedest Ethely-bye: Here we are, the most wise B avian — partic- ularly nice — and the Elderly Parent, on the last stage of their journey. I am enjoying it all, but I think Kermit regards me as a little soft, because I am so eagerly looking forward to the end, when I shall see darling, pretty Mother, my own sweet- heart, and the very nicest of all nice daughters — [237] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN you blessed girlie. Do you remember when you explained, with some asperity, that of course you wished Ted were at home, because you didn't have anybody as a really intimate companion, whereas Mother had "old Father"? It is a great comfort to have a daughter to whom I can write about all kinds of intimate things ! This is a most interesting place. We crossed the great Nyanza Lake, in a comfortable steamer, in 24 hours, seeing a lovely sunset across the vast expanse of waters; and the moonlight later was as lovely. Here it is as hot as one would expect directly on the Equator, and the brilliant green landscape is fairly painted with even more bril- liant flowers, on trees, bush, and vines; while the strange, semi-civilized people are most interest- ing. The queer little king's Prime Minister, an exceedingly competent, gorgeously dressed, black man, reminds Kermit of a rather civilized Um- slopagaar — if that is the way you spell Rider Haggard's Zulu hero. In this little native town we are driven round in rickshaws, each with four men pushing and [238] GOODBYE TO AFRICA pulling, who utter a queer, clanging note of ex- clamation in chorus, every few seconds, hour after hour. THE LAST HUNT ^ , Gondokoro, Feb. 27, 1910. Dearest Archie: Here, much to my pleasure, I find your letter written after the snow-storm at Sagamore. No snow here ! On two or three days the thermometer at noon has stood at 115 degrees in the shade. All three naturalists and Mr. Cunninghame, the guide, have been sick, and so Kermit and I made our last hunt alone, going for eight days into the Lado. We were very successful, getting among other things three giant eland, which are great prizes. We worked hard; Kermit of course worked hardest, for he is really a first-class walker and runner; I had to go slowly, but I kept at it all day and every day. Kermit has really become not only an excellent hunter but also a responsible and trustworthy man, fit to lead; he managed the whole caravan and after hunting all day he would sit up half the night taking care of the [239] LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN skins. He is also the nicest possible companion. We are both very much attached to our gun- bearers and tent boys, and will be sorry to part with them. QUENTIN GROWN-UP ^ , New York, Dec. 23, 1911. Dear Archie: Quentin turned up last night. He is half an inch taller than I am, and is in great shape. He is much less fat than he was, and seems to be turning out right in every way. I was amused to have him sit down and play the piano pretty well. We miss you dreadfully now that Christ- mas has come. The family went into revolt about my slouch hat, which Quentin christened "Old Mizzoura," and so I have had to buy another with a less pronounced crown and brim. We all drank your good health at dinner. [240] '/ifSSff.^a