his gun ten feet off and sit down to get at such pests as had swarmed up his trouser-legs. Glancing in our direction, he discovered us, nodded pleasantly, and with unabashed and friendly feeling, remarked, 'Ain't they bad!" Nothing more delightfully intime than that in French Army annals.

The sympathy which the Spanish War developed between the Rough Riders and their devoted "Colonel" never died out during Roosevelt's life, and it led to many touching incidents, grave and gay, in later years, which may be properly termed,

in medical nomenclature, sequela. Often during his occupancy of the White House, veterans of that splendid organization appealed to him as confidently as to their own brother. It is said that Congressman Grosvenor sought an audience one day at the White House and was denied admission. "The President is engaged," said the page. "Who is in there?" demanded Congressman Grosvenor impatiently. "Oh, one of his old Rough Riders, I think." And the angry Congressman, blending his vexation with a saving sense of humor, exclaimed, as he turned away, "Then there's no hope for me. A mere Congressman doesn't stand any chance at all against a Rough Rider."

1

There is another of these unique appeals which

is already and will perhaps remain for all time -a "classic." In Roosevelt's own words, thus:

"Among the many letters which I received from men of my old regiment came this: 'Dear Colonel: I write you because I am in trouble. I have shot a lady in the eye. But, Colonel, I was not aiming at the lady. I was aiming at my wife.' That excuse he evidently regarded as a sufficient one, between 'men of the world.' But I wrote him that I drew the line altogether at shooting at ladies."

One incident, which I have seen in garbled form in print, has been given me correctly by an eyewitness, my classmate and Roosevelt's classmate, the late Vanderlyn Stow, of San Francisco. Roosevelt, during his presidency, visited California in company with his Secretary of the Navy, William Moody. The Bohemian Club of San Francisco hoped to get him to come to San Francisco and address the club. Mr. Stow saw that this was asking too much, for it would establish a bad precedent. But he yielded - being president of the club to his fellow members' urging. He went down and met Roosevelt at Monterey. The three men lunched together. Stow preferred his request, in a perfunctory way, with the expected result. The general conversation was resumed. Roosevelt was in exuberant spirits. Presently he said, eyes twinkling mischievously, "Secretary Moody

has just accused me of a grave offense. He has said that I show favoritism to my old Rough Riders, that I put them all into offices."

He paused; and Moody replied, in that deliberate way which always gave weight to his humor, "I think you mistook me, Mr. President. I believe I did not say that you put them all into offices, but that you put in all who were not already in jail." And Stow declared that Roosevelt laughed so heartily at the keen rejoinder that he nearly fell off his chair.

Thus comes to an end this chapter on Theodore Roosevelt's career at Washington, in the Navy Department, and in Cuba as a soldier, on a real field of battle. And again I assert that Theodore Roosevelt loved fighting in the cause of Right. He was the happiest of warriors, as he intimated to his intimate friend, Charles Washburn. The charge up that San Juan Ridge was the most enjoyable episode of his life.

In closing, I look up at a beautiful bronze basrelief over my desk, portraying in silhouette the face of my honored and beloved classmate. And across the base of that plate, below the head, I read these words quoted from Roosevelt's writings and molded lastingly into the metal fabric,—“Aggressive fighting for the right is the noblest sport the world affords."

CHAPTER X

GOVERNOR OF THE EMPIRE STATE

When Roosevelt returned from Cuba, and the transport steamer was off Montauk Point, somebody shouted to him from another vessel, "How are you feeling, Colonel?" And the reply went back promptly, "Disgracefully well." In that impulsive reply the sincerity and sympathy of the man found spontaneous expression. His saddened thought was of his "Boys" -some killed, many wounded, and many stricken by fever. And he well and strong. It was a characteristic exclamation from a tender, generous heart.

He needed, however, all that health and strength, during the struggle before him in his native State. The Republican Party of New York needed him to prevent its defeat in the approaching gubernatorial election. For he, by force of circumstances and by his own splendid military record, was "The Man on Horseback." In France, after the FrancoPrussian War of 1870, George Ernest Boulanger, loaded with military honors, returned to Paris. And the title of "The Man on Horseback" was

given him. It expressed his prestige and power gained on the battle field. A far nobler type was Colonel Theodore Roosevelt; but the two men resembled each other for that hour in their popularity and influence.

The Republican Party needed Roosevelt. But Senator Thomas C. Platt, "boss" of the party, was "in a strait betwixt two." He desired victory for his party, but he dreaded admitting this bold young reformer into the inner political circles. Platt at this time was sixty-seven years old, and quite infirm physically; and Roosevelt was thirty years old, and physically at his maximum of strength. Of him intellectually it must be said that he was a growing man, and had not then attained all the wisdom and power of his later years. But he was practically the most striking personality in the country and seemed to Platt the most promising gubernatorial Republican candidate. Regarding Mr. Platt's mental equipment at this period, we might use Roosevelt's own caustic words of later date: "I could not find that he had a taste for anything except politics, and, on rare occasions, for a dry theology quite divorced from moral implications."

As soon as Colonel Roosevelt landed, he was met by Lemuel Quigg, discreet agent of Senator Platt. Together with Douglas Robinson the two