chase, but liked best a front seat on the President's horse. At night he would sleep on the foot of his bed, and growl defiance at anybody and anything that "T grew attached to the friendly, bright little fellow," the President has confessed, "and at the end of the hunt I took him home as a playmate for the children."

came near.

Some of Skip's new companions at Oyster Bay bore names far more imposing than his. There was a black bear, with an uncertain temper, whom the children had named Jonathan Edwards in honor of the famous divine, who was an ancestor of their mother. There were guinea-pigs who bore names in compliment to Bishop Doane of Albany, Father O'Grady, a neighboring priest, Dr. Johnson, Fighting Bob Evans, and Admiral Dewey. A distinguished man, who was calling on the President, did not understand this custom, and therefore was bewildered to hear one of the children rush in and breathlessly report, “Oh, oh, Father O'Grady has had some children!"

Perhaps the most honored representative of the animal kingdom at Oyster Bay is Algonquin, a little calico pony from far-away Iceland, which Secretary

Skip, as well as Archie,
Nothing is too good for

Hitchcock gave to Archie. delights to ride Algonquin. this Icelander, and, when a naval officer came to call in full-dress uniform, Archie was so impressed that he at once ran to get Algonquin that he too might enjoy the spectacle. The pageant was lost on him, however, and he would look at nothing except the nice green grass in the lawn, which he nibbled greedily.

But once when Archie was sick in the White House, Algonquin made up for all past neglect. The stable boys were sure that if the invalid could have a visit from the pony it would do him more good than medicine. They conspired together, secretly smuggled him into the basement and into the elevator, and thus carried him up to the sick-room, to the unbounded joy of the patient.

A red-letter day in the boy life at Oyster Bay is when the President goes picnicking. The Roosevelt boys and their cousins, who live near by, plan it all, and with the President they row off to some quiet cove, away from telephones and Secret Service men. There they catch their fish and build a fire. The President turns cook before an admiring circle of youths, who watch him with watering mouths while

he fries the fish or strips of beefsteak and thin slices of potatoes. "You ought to taste my father's steak," Archie boasts all the rest of the year. "He tumbles it all in together, potatoes, onions, and steak. I tell you it's fine." After supper the President tells them stories of big game out West, of mountain lions and grizzly bears, while the little fellows watch the shadows around them. One night they heard a fox barking in the woods, which thrilled them through and through, and they discussed the chance of seeing him in the morning. And sure enough they saw him running along the shore while they and the President were in for their early swim.

The eternal boy in the President can always hear the call of his boys. On a certain occasion several of the boys came into the library while he was talking with a man, and one of the cousins spoke up: "Uncle, it's after four." "So it is," the President replied, as he looked at the clock. "Why didn't you call me sooner? One of you get my rifle. I must ask you to excuse me," he said, as he turned to his caller. "We'll finish this talk later. I promised the boys I would go shooting with them at four o'clock, and I never keep them waiting. It's hard

for a boy to wait." In order to give his boys a chance for rifle practice he has provided a twohundred-yard range at Oyster Bay.

At another time Quentin sought out his father in the gun room, where he had taken refuge for the purpose of finishing some writing. A negro gardener had seen a coon in the hickory grove, and the President must come with his rifle "right away." So off they went, Quentin clasping the butt of the rifle, until they came to the impudent invader in a big hollow chestnut tree. The President has the utmost tolerance for all kinds of wild guests, but this one was too near the chicken coop. A short while before, a possum had been spared in mistaken kindness and had done much harm to the poultry. The coon was doomed, and when the President and his son returned to the house, each carried a hind leg of the rascal.

For the boys the glory of the White House is a poor exchange for the free life at Oyster Bay. When the President told one of them, early in their experience at the mansion, not to walk through the flower beds because the gardener objected, the lad indignantly exclaimed, "I don't see what good it does you to be