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Theodore Roosevelt’s

LETTERS TO HIS CHILDREN 

By Joseph Bucklin Bishop 

Second section of 6 ends on page 80 

TOM QUARTZ AND JACK 

White House, Jan. 6, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

We felt very melancholy after you and Ted left and the house seemed
empty and lonely. But it was the greatest possible comfort to feel that
you both really have enjoyed school and are both doing well there.

Tom Quartz is certainly the cunningest kitten I have ever seen. He is
always playing pranks on Jack and I get very nervous lest Jack
should grow too irritated. The other evening they were both in the
library--Jack sleeping before the fire--Tom Quartz scampering about, an
exceedingly playful little wild creature--which is about what he is. He
would race across the floor, then jump upon the curtain or play with
the tassel. Suddenly he spied Jack and galloped up to him. Jack, looking
exceedingly sullen and shame-faced, jumped out of the way and got
upon the sofa, where Tom Quartz instantly jumped upon him again. Jack
suddenly shifted to the other sofa, where Tom Quartz again went after
him. Then Jack started for the door, while Tom made a rapid turn under
the sofa and around the table, and just as Jack reached the door leaped
on his hind-quarters. Jack bounded forward and away and the two went
tandem out of the room--Jack not reappearing at all; and after about
five minutes Tom Quartz stalked solemnly back.

Another evening the next Speaker of the House, Mr. Cannon, an
exceedingly solemn, elderly gentleman with chin whiskers, who certainly
does not look to be of playful nature, came to call upon me. He is a
great friend of mine, and we sat talking over what our policies for the
session should be until about eleven o'clock; and when he went away I
accompanied him to the head of the stairs. He had gone about half-way
down when Tom Quartz strolled by, his tail erect and very fluffy. He
spied Mr. Cannon going down the stairs, jumped to the conclusion that he
was a playmate escaping, and raced after him, suddenly grasping him by
the leg the way he does Archie and Quentin when they play hide and
seek with him; then loosening his hold he tore down-stairs ahead of Mr.
Cannon, who eyed him with iron calm and not one particle of surprise.

Ethel has reluctantly gone back to boarding-school. It is just after
lunch and Dulany is cutting my hair while I dictate this to Mr. Loeb. I
left Mother lying on the sofa and reading aloud to Quentin, who as usual
has hung himself over the back of the sofa in what I should personally
regard as an exceedingly uncomfortable attitude to listen to literature.
Archie we shall not see until this evening, when he will suddenly
challenge me either to a race or a bear play, and if neither invitation
is accepted will then propose that I tell a pig story or else read aloud
from the Norse folk tales.

A FAR WESTERN TRIP

In April, 1903, President Roosevelt made a trip to the Pacific Coast,
visiting Yellowstone Park and the Grand Canyon of Arizona.

TAME WILD CREATURES

Yellowstone Park, Wyoming, April 16, 1903.

DARLING ETHEL:

I wish you could be here and see how tame all the wild creatures are. As
I write a dozen of deer have come down to the parade grounds, right in
front of the house, to get the hay; they are all looking at the bugler,
who has begun to play the "retreat."

WESTERN CUSTOMS AND SCENERY

Del Monte, Cal., May 10, 1903.

DARLING ETHEL:

I have thought it very good of you to write me so much. Of course I am
feeling rather fagged, and the next four days, which will include San
Francisco, will be tiresome; but I am very well. This is a beautiful
hotel in which we are spending Sunday, with gardens and a long
seventeen-mile drive beside the beach and the rocks and among the
pines and cypresses. I went on horseback. My horse was a little beauty,
spirited, swift, sure-footed and enduring. As is usually the case here
they had a great deal of silver on the bridle and headstall, and much
carving on the saddle. We had some splendid gallops. By the way, tell
mother that everywhere out here, from the Mississippi to the Pacific,
I have seen most of the girls riding astride, and most of the grown-up
women. I must say I think it very much better for the horses' backs. I
think by the time that you are an old lady the side-saddle will almost
have vanished--I am sure I hope so. I have forgotten whether you like
the side-saddle or not.

It was very interesting going through New Mexico and seeing the strange
old civilization of the desert, and next day the Grand Canyon of
Arizona, wonderful and beautiful beyond description. I could have sat
and looked at it for days. It is a tremendous chasm, a mile deep and
several miles wide, the cliffs carved into battlements, amphitheatres,
towers and pinnacles, and the coloring wonderful, red and yellow and
gray and green. Then we went through the desert, passed across the
Sierras and came into this semi-tropical country of southern California,
with palms and orange groves and olive orchards and immense quantities
of flowers.

TREASURES FOR THE CHILDREN

Del Monte, Cal., May 10, 1903.

BLESSED KERMIT:

The last weeks' travel I have really enjoyed. Last Sunday and to-day
(Sunday) and also on Wednesday at the Grand Canyon I had long rides, and
the country has been strange and beautiful. I have collected a variety
of treasures, which I shall have to try to divide up equally among you
children. One treasure, by the way, is a very small badger, which I
named Josiah, and he is now called Josh for short. He is very
cunning and I hold him in my arms and pet him. I hope he will grow up
friendly--that is if the poor little fellow lives to grow up at all.
Dulany is taking excellent care of him, and we feed him on milk and
potatoes.

I have enjoyed meeting an old classmate of mine at Harvard. He was
heavyweight boxing champion when I was in college.

I was much interested in your seeing the wild deer. That was quite
remarkable. To-day, by the way, as I rode along the beach I saw seals,
cormorants, gulls and ducks, all astonishingly tame.

MORE TREASURES

Del Monte, Cal., May 10, 1903.

BLESSED ARCHIE:

I think it was very cunning for you and Quentin to write me that letter
together. I wish you could have been with me to-day on Algonquin, for we
had a perfectly lovely ride. Dr. Rixey and I were on two very handsome
horses, with Mexican saddles and bridles; the reins of very slender
leather with silver rings. The road led through pine and cypress forests
and along the beach. The surf was beating on the rocks in one place and
right between two of the rocks where I really did not see how anything
could swim a seal appeared and stood up on his tail half out of the
foaming water and flapped his flippers, and was as much at home as
anything could be. Beautiful gulls flew close to us all around, and
cormorants swam along the breakers or walked along the beach.

I have a number of treasures to divide among you children when I get
back. One of the treasures is Bill the Lizard. He is a little live
lizard, called a horned frog, very cunning, who lives in a small box.
The little badger, Josh, is very well and eats milk and potatoes. We
took him out and gave him a run in the sand to-day. So far he seems as
friendly as possible. When he feels hungry he squeals and the colored
porters insist that he says "Du-la-ny, Du-la-ny," because Dulany is very
good to him and takes care of him.

A HOMESICK PRESIDENT

Del Monte, Cal., May 10, 1903.

DEAREST QUENTY-QUEE

I loved your letter. I am very homesick for mother and for you children;
but I have enjoyed this week's travel. I have been among the orange
groves, where the trees have oranges growing thick upon them, and there
are more flowers than you have ever seen. I have a gold top which I
shall give you if mother thinks you can take care of it. Perhaps I
shall give you a silver bell instead. Whenever I see a little boy being
brought up by his father or mother to look at the procession as we pass
by, I think of you and Archie and feel very homesick. Sometimes little
boys ride in the procession on their ponies, just like Archie on
Algonquin.

JOSIAH'S PASSIONATE DAY

Writing Senator Lodge on June 6, 1903, describing his return to the
White House from his western trip, the President said:

"Josiah, the young badger, is hailed with the wildest enthusiasm by the
children, and has passed an affectionate but passionate day with us.
Fortunately his temper seems proof."

LOVES AND SPORTS OF THE CHILDREN

(To Miss Emily T. Carow)

Oyster Bay, Aug. 6, 1903.

To-day is Edith's birthday, and the children have been too cunning in
celebrating it. Ethel had hemstitched a little handkerchief herself, and
she had taken her gift and the gifts of all the other children into her
room and neatly wrapped them up in white paper and tied with ribbons.
They were for the most part taken down-stairs and put at her plate at
breakfast time. Then at lunch in marched Kermit and Ethel with a cake,
burning forty-two candles, and each candle with a piece of paper tied
to it purporting to show the animal or inanimate object from which
the candle came. All the dogs and horses--Renown, Bleistein, Yagenka,
Algonquin, Sailor Boy, Brier, Hector, etc., as well as Tom Quartz, the
cat, the extraordinarily named hens--such as Baron Speckle and Fierce,
and finally even the boats and that pomegranate which Edith gave Kermit
and which has always been known as Santiago, had each his or her or its
tag on a special candle.

Edith is very well this summer and looks so young and pretty. She rides
with us a great deal and loves Yagenka as much as ever. We also go
out rowing together, taking our lunch and a book or two with us. The
children fairly worship her, as they ought to, for a more devoted mother
never was known. The children themselves are as cunning and good as
possible. Ted is nearly as tall as I am and as tough and wiry as you
can imagine. He is a really good rider and can hold his own in walking,
running, swimming, shooting, wrestling, and boxing. Kermit is as cunning
as ever and has developed greatly. He and his inseparable Philip started
out for a night's camping in their best the other day. A driving storm
came up and they had to put back, really showing both pluck, skill and
judgment. They reached home, after having been out twelve hours, at nine
in the evening. Archie continues devoted to Algonquin and to Nicholas.
Ted's playmates are George and Jack, Aleck Russell, who is in Princeton,
and Ensign Hamner of the _Sylph_. They wrestle, shoot, swim, play
tennis, and go off on long expeditions in the boats. Quenty-quee has
cast off the trammels of the nursery and become a most active and
fearless though very good-tempered little boy. Really the children do
have an ideal time out here, and it is an ideal place for them. The
three sets of cousins are always together. I am rather disconcerted
by the fact that they persist in regarding me as a playmate. This
afternoon, for instance, was rainy, and all of them from George, Ted,
Lorraine and Ethel down to Archibald, Nicholas and Quentin, with the
addition of Aleck Russell and Ensign Hamner, came to get me to play with
them in the old barn. They plead so hard that I finally gave in, but
upon my word, I hardly knew whether it was quite right for the President
to be engaged in such wild romping as the next two hours saw. The barn
is filled with hay, and of course meets every requirement for the most
active species of hide-and-seek and the like. Quentin enjoyed the game
as much as any one, and would jump down from one hay level to another
fifteen feet below with complete abandon.

I took Kermit and Archie, with Philip, Oliver and Nicholas out for a
night's camping in the two rowboats last week. They enjoyed themselves
heartily, as usual, each sleeping rolled up in his blanket, and all
getting up at an unearthly hour. Also, as usual, they displayed a
touching and firm conviction that my cooking is unequalled. It was of a
simple character, consisting of frying beefsteak first and then potatoes
in bacon fat, over the camp fire; but they certainly ate in a way that
showed their words were not uttered in a spirit of empty compliment.

A PRESIDENT AT PLAY

(To Miss Emily T. Carow)

Oyster Bay, Aug. 16, 1903.

Archie and Nick continue inseparable. I wish you could have seen them
the other day, after one of the picnics, walking solemnly up, jointly
carrying a basket, and each with a captured turtle in his disengaged
hand. Archie is a most warm-hearted, loving, cunning little goose.
Quentin, a merry soul, has now become entirely one of the children, and
joins heartily in all their plays, including the romps in the old
barn. When Ethel had her birthday, the one entertainment for which she
stipulated was that I should take part in and supervise a romp in the
old barn, to which all the Roosevelt children, Ensign Hamner of the
_Sylph_, Bob Ferguson and Aleck Russell were to come. Of course I had
not the heart to refuse; but really it seems, to put it mildly, rather
odd for a stout, elderly President to be bouncing over hayricks in a
wild effort to get to goal before an active midget of a competitor, aged
nine years. However, it was really great fun.

One of our recent picnics was an innovation, due to Edith. We went in
carriages or on horseback to Jane's Hill, some eight miles distant. The
view was lovely, and there was a delightful old farmhouse half a mile
away, where we left our horses. Speck (German Ambassador, Count Speck
von Sternberg) rode with Edith and me, looking more like Hans Christian
Andersen's little tin soldier than ever. His papers as Ambassador had
finally come, and so he had turned up at Oyster Bay, together with the
Acting Secretary of State, to present them. He appeared in what was
really a very striking costume, that of a hussar. As soon as the
ceremony was over, I told him to put on civilized raiment, which he did,
and he spent a couple of days with me. We chopped, and shot, and rode
together. He was delighted with Wyoming, and, as always, was extremely
nice to the children.

The other day all the children gave amusing amateur theatricals, gotten
up by Lorraine and Ted. The acting was upon Laura Roosevelt's tennis
court. All the children were most cunning, especially Quentin as Cupid,
in the scantiest of pink muslin tights and bodice. Ted and Lorraine, who
were respectively George Washington and Cleopatra, really carried off
the play. At the end all the cast joined hands in a song and dance, the
final verse being devoted especially to me. I love all these children
and have great fun with them, and I am touched by the way in which they
feel that I am their special friend, champion, and companion.

To-day all, young and old, from the three houses went with us to
Service on the great battleship _Kearsarge_--for the fleet is here to be
inspected by me to-morrow. It was an impressive sight, one which I think
the children will not soon forget. Most of the boys afterward went to
lunch with the wretched Secretary Moody on the _Dolphin_. Ted had the
younger ones very much on his mind, and when he got back said they
had been altogether too much like a March Hare tea-party, as Archie,
Nicholas and Oliver were not alive to the dignity of the occasion.

TO TED ON A HUNTING TRIP

Oyster Bay, Aug. 25, 1903.

DEAR TED:

We have thought of you a good deal, of course. I am glad you have my
rifle with you--you scamp, does it still have "those associations" which
you alleged as the reason why you would value it so much when in the
near future I became unable longer to use it? I do not have very much
hope of your getting a great deal of sport on this trip, and anything
you do get in the way of furred or feathered game and fishing I shall
count as so much extra thrown in; but I feel the trip will teach you
a lot in the way of handling yourself in a wild country, as well as of
managing horses and camp outfits--of dealing with frontiersmen, etc. It
will therefore fit you to go on a regular camping trip next time.

I have sternly refused to allow mother to ride Wyoming, on the ground
that I would not have her make a martyr of herself in the shape of
riding a horse with a single-foot gait, which she so openly detests.
Accordingly, I have had some long and delightful rides with her, she on
Yagenka and I on Bleistein, while Ethel and Kermit have begun to ride
Wyoming. Kermit was with us this morning and got along beautifully till
we galloped, whereupon Wyoming made up his mind that it was a race, and
Kermit, for a moment or two, found him a handful.

On Sunday, after we came back from church and bathed, I rowed mother out
to the end of Lloyds Neck, near your favorite camping ground. There we
took lunch and spent a couple of hours with our books, reading a little
and looking out over the beautiful Sound and at the headlands and
white beaches of the coast. We rowed back through a strange, shimmering
sunset.

I have played a little tennis since you left. Winty Chandler beat me two
sets, but I beat him one. Alex. Russell beat me a long deuce set, 10 to
8. To-day the smaller children held their championship. Nick won a long
deuce set from Archie, and to my surprise Oliver and Ethel beat Kermit
and Philip in two straight sets. I officiated as umpire and furnished
the prizes, which were penknives.

END OF SUMMER AT OYSTER BAY

Oyster Bay, Sept. 23, 1903.

BLESSED KERMIT:

The house seems very empty without you and Ted, although I cannot
conscientiously say that it is quiet--Archie and Quentin attend to that.
Archie, barefooted, bareheaded, and with his usual faded blue overalls,
much torn and patched, has just returned from a morning with his beloved
Nick. Quentin has passed the morning in sports and pastimes with the
long-suffering secret service men. Allan has been associating closely
with mother and me. Yesterday Ethel went off riding with Lorraine. She
rode Wyoming, who is really turning out a very good family horse. This
evening I expect Grant La Farge and Owen Wister, who are coming to spend
the night. Mother is as busy as possible putting up the house, and Ethel
and I insist that she now eyes us both with a purely professional gaze,
and secretly wishes she could wrap us up in a neatly pinned sheet with
camphor balls inside. Good-bye, blessed fellow!

"VALUABLEST" KIND OF RABBITS

(To his sister, Mrs. W. S. Cowles)

White House, Oct. 2, 1903.

Tell Sheffield that Quentin is now going to the public school. As yet he
has preserved an attitude of dignified reserve concerning his feelings
on the subject. He has just been presented with two white rabbits, which
he brought in while we were at lunch yesterday, explaining that they
were "the valuablest kind with pink eyes."

A PREACHING LETTER

White House, Oct. 2, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

I was very glad to get your letter. Am glad you are playing football.
I should be very sorry to see either you or Ted devoting most of your
attention to athletics, and I haven't got any special ambition to see
you shine overmuch in athletics at college, at least (if you go there),
because I think it tends to take up too much time; but I do like to feel
that you are manly and able to hold your own in rough, hardy sports. I
would rather have a boy of mine stand high in his studies than high in
athletics, but I could a great deal rather have him show true manliness
of character than show either intellectual or physical prowess; and I
believe you and Ted both bid fair to develop just such character.

There! you will think this a dreadfully preaching letter! I suppose
I have a natural tendency to preach just at present because I am
overwhelmed with my work. I enjoy being President, and I like to do
the work and have my hand on the lever. But it is very worrying and
puzzling, and I have to make up my mind to accept every kind of attack
and misrepresentation. It is a great comfort to me to read the life and
letters of Abraham Lincoln. I am more and more impressed every day, not
only with the man's wonderful power and sagacity, but with his literally
endless patience, and at the same time his unflinching resolution.

PROPER PLACE FOR SPORTS

White House, Oct. 4, 1903.

DEAR TED:

In spite of the "Hurry! Hurry!" on the outside of your envelope, I did
not like to act until I had consulted Mother and thought the matter
over; and to be frank with you, old fellow, I am by no means sure that
I am doing right now. If it were not that I feel you will be so bitterly
disappointed, I would strongly advocate your acquiescing in the decision
to leave you off the second squad this year. I am proud of your pluck,
and I greatly admire football--though it was not a game I was ever able
to play myself, my qualities resembling Kermit's rather than yours. But
the very things that make it a good game make it a rough game, and there
is always the chance of your being laid up. Now, I should not in the
least object to your being laid up for a season if you were striving for
something worth while, to get on the Groton school team, for instance,
or on your class team when you entered Harvard--for of course I don't
think you will have the weight to entitle you to try for the 'varsity.
But I am by no means sure that it is worth your while to run the risk of
being laid up for the sake of playing in the second squad when you are
a fourth former, instead of when you are a fifth former. I do not know
that the risk is balanced by the reward. However, I have told the Rector
that as you feel so strongly about it, I think that the chance of your
damaging yourself in body is outweighed by the possibility of bitterness
of spirit if you could not play. Understand me, I should think mighty
little of you if you permitted chagrin to make you bitter on some point
where it was evidently right for you to suffer the chagrin. But in this
case I am uncertain, and I shall give you the benefit of the doubt. If,
however, the coaches at any time come to the conclusion that you ought
not to be in the second squad, why you must come off without grumbling.

I am delighted to have you play football. I believe in rough, manly
sports. But I do not believe in them if they degenerate into the sole
end of any one's existence. I don't want you to sacrifice standing well
in your studies to any over-athleticism; and I need not tell you that
character counts for a great deal more than either intellect or body in
winning success in life. Athletic proficiency is a mighty good servant,
and like so many other good servants, a mighty bad master. Did you ever
read Pliny's letter to Trajan, in which he speaks of its being advisable
to keep the Greeks absorbed in athletics, because it distracted their
minds from all serious pursuits, including soldiering, and prevented
their ever being dangerous to the Romans? I have not a doubt that the
British officers in the Boer War had their efficiency partly reduced
because they had sacrificed their legitimate duties to an inordinate and
ridiculous love of sports. A man must develop his physical prowess up
to a certain point; but after he has reached that point there are other
things that count more. In my regiment nine-tenths of the men were
better horsemen than I was, and probably two-thirds of them better shots
than I was, while on the average they were certainly hardier and more
enduring. Yet after I had had them a very short while they all knew, and
I knew too, that nobody else could command them as I could. I am glad
you should play football; I am glad that you should box; I am glad that
you should ride and shoot and walk and row as well as you do. I should
be very sorry if you did not do these things. But don't ever get into
the frame of mind which regards these things as constituting the end to
which all your energies must be devoted, or even the major portion of
your energies.

Yes, I am going to speak at Groton on prize day. I felt that while I was
President, and while you and Kermit were at Groton I wanted to come up
there and see you, and the Rector wished me to speak, and so I am very
glad to accept.

By the way, I am working hard to get Renown accustomed to automobiles.
He is such a handful now when he meets them that I seriously mind
encountering them when Mother is along. Of course I do not care if I am
alone, or with another man, but I am uneasy all the time when I am
out with Mother. Yesterday I tried Bleistein over the hurdles at Chevy
Chase. The first one was new, high and stiff, and the old rascal never
rose six inches, going slap through it. I took him at it again and he
went over all right.

I am very busy now, facing the usual endless worry and discouragement,
and trying to keep steadily in mind that I must not only be as resolute
as Abraham Lincoln in seeking to achieve decent ends, but as patient,
as uncomplaining, and as even-tempered in dealing, not only with knaves,
but with the well-meaning foolish people, educated and uneducated, who
by their unwisdom give the knaves their chance.

CONCERNING GETTING "SMASHED"

White House, Oct. 11, 1903.

DEAR TED:

I have received letters from the Rector, from Mr. Woods, and from Mr.
Billings. They all say that you should play on the third squad, and Mr.
Woods says you are now satisfied to do so. This was my first, and as I
am convinced, my real judgment in the case. If you get mashed up now in
a serious way it may prevent your playing later. As I think I wrote you,
I do not in the least object to your getting smashed if it is for
an object that is worth while, such as playing on the Groton team or
playing on your class team when you get to Harvard. But I think it a
little silly to run any imminent risk of a serious smash simply to play
on the second squad instead of the third.

I am judging for you as I would for myself. When I was young and
rode across country I was light and tough, and if I did, as actually
happened, break an arm or a rib no damage ensued and no scandal was
caused. Now I am stiff and heavy, and any accident to me would cause
immense talk, and I do not take the chance; simply because it is not
worth while. On the other hand, if I should now go to war and have a
brigade as I had my regiment before Santiago, I should take any chance
that was necessary; because it would be worth while. In other words, I
want to make the risk to a certain accident commensurate with the object
gained.

THE ART OF UNCLE REMUS

(To Joel Chandler Harris)

White House, Oct. 12, 1901.

MY DEAR HARRIS:

It is worth while being President when one's small daughter receives
that kind of an autograph gift. When I was younger than she is, my
Aunt Annie Bulloch, of Georgia, used to tell me some of the brer rabbit
stories, especially brer rabbit and the tar baby. But fond though I
am of the brer rabbit stories I think I am even fonder of your other
writings. I doubt if there is a more genuinely pathetic tale in all our
literature than "Free Joe." Moreover I have felt that all that you
write serves to bring our people closer together. I know, of course, the
ordinary talk is that an artist should be judged purely by his art; but
I am rather a Philistine and like to feel that the art serves a good
purpose. Your art is not only an art addition to our sum of national
achievement, but it has also always been an addition to the forces
that tell for decency, and above all for the blotting out of sectional
antagonism.

A RIDE AND A PILLOW FIGHT

White House, Oct. 19, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

I was much pleased at your being made captain of your eleven. I would
rather have you captain of the third eleven than playing on the second.

Yesterday afternoon Ethel on Wyoming, Mother on Yagenka and I on Renown
had a long ride, the only incident being meeting a large red automobile,
which much shook Renown's nerves, although he behaved far better than he
has hitherto been doing about automobiles. In fact, he behaved so well
that I leaned over and gave him a lump of sugar when he had passed the
object of terror--the old boy eagerly turning his head around to get it.
It was lovely out in the country, with the trees at their very best
of the fall coloring. There are no red maples here, but the Virginia
creepers and some of the dogwoods give the red, and the hickories, tulip
trees and beeches a brilliant yellow, sometimes almost orange.

When we got home Mother went up-stairs first and was met by Archie and
Quentin, each loaded with pillows and whispering not to let me know that
they were in ambush; then as I marched up to the top they assailed me
with shrieks and chuckles of delight and then the pillow fight raged up
and down the hall. After my bath I read them from Uncle Remus. Usually
Mother reads them, but now and then, when I think she really must have a
holiday from it, I read them myself.

STUDY AND PLAY

White House, Oct. 24, 1903.

DEAR TED:

I am really greatly pleased at your standing so high in your form, and I
am sure that this year it is better for you to be playing where you are
in football. I suppose next year you will go back to your position of
end, as you would hardly be heavy enough for playing back, or to play
behind the centre, against teams with big fellows. I repeat that your
standing in the class gave me real pleasure. I have sympathized so
much with your delight in physical prowess and have been so glad at the
success you have had, that sometimes I have been afraid I have failed to
emphasize sufficiently the fact that of course one must not subordinate
study and work to the cultivation of such prowess. By the way, I am
sorry to say that I am falling behind physically. The last two or three
years I have had a tendency to rheumatism, or gout, or something of the
kind, which makes me very stiff.

Renown is behaving better about automobiles and the like. I think the
difference is largely in the way I handle him. He is a very good-natured
and gentle horse, but timid and not over-wise, and when in a panic his
great strength makes him well-nigh uncontrollable. Accordingly, he is a
bad horse to try to force by anything. If possible, it is much better
to give him a little time, and bring him up as gently as may be to the
object of terror. When he behaves well I lean forward and give him a
lump of sugar, and now the old boy eagerly puts around his head when
I stretch out my hand. Bleistein I have ridden very little, because I
think one of his forelegs is shaky, and I want to spare him all I can.
Mother and I have had the most lovely rides imaginable.

QUENTIN'S FIRST FALL

White House, Oct. 24, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

Yesterday I felt rather seedy, having a touch of Cuban fever, my only
unpleasant reminiscence of the Santiago campaign. Accordingly, I spent
the afternoon in the house lying on the sofa, with a bright fire burning
and Mother in the rocking-chair, with her knitting, beside me. I felt
so glad that I was not out somewhere in the wilderness, campaigning or
hunting, where I would have to walk or ride all day in the rain and then
lie out under a bush at night!

When Allan will come from the trainer's I do not know. Rather to my
surprise, Ronald has won golden opinions and really is a very nice dog.
Pinckney loves him, and he sits up in the express wagon just as if it
was what he had been born to.

Quentin is learning to ride the pony. He had one tumble, which, he
remarked philosophically, did not hurt him any more than when I whacked
him with a sofa cushion in one of our pillow fights. I think he will
very soon be able to manage the pony by himself.

Mother has just taken the three children to spend the afternoon at
Dr. Rixey's farm. I am hard at work on my message to Congress, and
accordingly shall not try to go out or see any one either this afternoon
or this evening. All of this work is terribly puzzling at times, but I
peg away at it, and every now and then, when the dust clears away and
I look around, I feel that I really have accomplished a little, at any
rate.

I think you stood well in your form, taking everything into account. I
feel you deserve credit for being captain of your football eleven, and
yet standing as high as you do in your class.

HOMESICK FOR SAGAMORE HILL

White House, Nov. 4, 1903.

DEAR TED:

Three cheers for Groton! It was first-class.

On election day I saw the house, and it was all so lovely that I felt
fairly homesick to be back in it. The Japanese maples were still in full
leaf and were turning the most beautiful shades of scarlet imaginable.
The old barn, I am sorry to say, seems to be giving away at one end.

Renown now behaves very well about automobiles, and indeed about
everything. He is, however, a little touched in the wind. Bleistein, in
spite of being a little shaky in one foreleg, is in splendid spirits
and eager for any amount of go. When you get on here for the Christmas
holidays you will have to try them both, for if there is any fox hunting
I am by no means sure you will find it better to take Bleistein than
Renown.

Sister is very handsome and good, having had a delightful time.

That was a funny trick which the Indians played against Harvard. Harvard
did well to play such a successful uphill game in the latter part of
the second half as to enable them to win out; but I do not see how she
stands a chance of success against Yale this year.

JOY OVER A FOOTBALL VICTORY

White House, Nov. 4, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

To-night while I was preparing to dictate a message to Congress
concerning the boiling caldron on the Isthmus of Panama, which has now
begun to bubble over, up came one of the ushers with a telegram from you
and Ted about the football match. Instantly I bolted into the next room
to read it aloud to mother and sister, and we all cheered in unison when
we came to the Rah! Rah! Rah! part of it. It was a great score. I wish I
could have seen the game.

VICE-MOTHER OF THE CHILDREN

White House, Nov. 15, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

Didn't I tell you about Hector, Brier and Sailor Boy (dogs) when I saw
them on election day? They were in excellent health, lying around the
door of Seaman's house, which they had evidently adopted as their own.
Sailor Boy and Brier were exceedingly affectionate; Hector kindly, but
uninterested.

Mother has gone off for nine days, and as usual I am acting as
vice-mother. Archie and Quentin are really too cunning for anything.
Each night I spend about three-quarters of an hour reading to them. I
first of all read some book like Algonquin Indian Tales, or the poetry
of Scott or Macaulay. Once I read them Jim Bludsoe, which perfectly
enthralled them and made Quentin ask me at least a hundred questions,
including one as to whether the colored boy did not find sitting on the
safety valve hot. I have also been reading them each evening from the
Bible. It has been the story of Saul, David and Jonathan. They have been
so interested that several times I have had to read them more than one
chapter. Then each says his prayers and repeats the hymn he is learning,
Quentin usually jigging solemnly up and down while he repeats it. Each
finally got one hymn perfect, whereupon in accordance with previous
instructions from mother I presented each of them with a five-cent
piece. Yesterday (Saturday) I took both of them and Ethel, together with
the three elder Garfield boys, for a long scramble down Rock Creek. We
really had great fun.

QUENTIN'S SIXTH BIRTHDAY

White House, Nov. 19, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

I was much pleased at your being chosen captain of the Seventh. I
had not expected it. I rather suspect that you will be behind in your
studies this month. If so, try to make up next month, and keep above
the middle of the class if you can. I am interested in what you tell me
about the Sir Galahads, and I shall want to talk to you about them when
you come on.

Mother is back with Aunt Emily, who looks very well. It is so nice to
have her. As for Mother, of course she makes the house feel like a home
again, instead of like a temporary dwelling.

Leo is as cunning as ever. Pinckney went to see Allan yesterday and said
he found him "as busy as a bee in a tar barrel," and evidently owning
all the trainer's house. He is not yet quite fit to come back here.

To-day is Quentin's birthday. He has a cold, so he had his birthday
cake, with the six candles, and his birthday ice-cream, in the nursery,
with Ethel, Archie, Mother, Aunt Emily, myself, Mame and Georgette as
admiring guests and onlookers.

A PRESIDENT'S POOR PROTECTION

White House, Nov. 28, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

It was very sad at Uncle Gracie's funeral; and yet lovely, too, in a
way, for not only all his old friends had turned out, but all of the
people connected with the institutions for which he had worked during
so many years also came. There were a good many of the older boys
and employees from the Newsboys' Lodging House and the Orthopaedic
Dispensary, etc. Uncle Jimmy possessed a singularly loving and
affectionate nature, and I never knew any one who in doing good was more
careful to do it unostentatiously. I had no idea how much he had done.
Mother with her usual thoughtfulness had kept him steadily in mind while
I have been Governor and President; and I now find that he appreciated
her so much, her constant remembrances in having him on to visit us on
different occasions. It was a lesson to me, for I should probably never
have thought of it myself; and of course when one does not do what one
ought to, the excuse that one erred from thoughtlessness instead of
wrong purpose is of small avail.

The police arrangements at the church were exasperating to a degree.
There were fully five hundred policemen in the streets round about, just
as if there was danger of an attack by a ferocious mob; and yet though
they had throngs of policemen inside, too, an elderly and harmless crank
actually got inside with them to present me some foolish memorial about
curing the German Emperor from cancer. Inasmuch as what we needed
was, not protection against a mob, but a sharp lookout for cranks, the
arrangement ought by rights to have been for fifty policemen outside
and two or three good detectives inside. I felt like a fool with all the
policemen in solemn and purposeless lines around about; and then I felt
half exasperated and half amused when I found that they were utterly
helpless to prevent a crank from getting inside after all.

P. S.--I enclose two original poems by Nick and Archie. They refer to a
bit of unhappy advice I gave them, because of which I fell into richly
merited disgrace with Mother. Nick has been spending three days or so
with Archie, and I suggested that they should explore the White House in
the mirk of midnight. They did, in white sheets, and, like little jacks,
barefooted. Send me back the poems.