The Ladies' Magazine.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2382, 24 December 1908, Page 9 (Supplement)

The Ladies' Magazine.

THE PRESIDENT AND THE BOY. HOW A TEN-YEAR-OLD BOY CHOSE THE PRESIDENT AS A CHRISTMAS BOX.

A vicious attack of double pneumonia. had left the heart of the Boy very weak—and Christmas was close by I So the Father said: “It’s a quiet Christmas for you this year, Boy. Suppose you do this: think oi (he one thing in the world you would rather have than anything else, and I’ll give you that, and that will be your Christmas.” “I know now,” came the instant reply. “But the world is a big place and there are lots of things in it, you know.” “I know that,” said the Boy, “but this is something I wanted to have for a long time, and would rather have than anything else'in the world.” And he looked as if he meant it.

“Well, out with it, then, if you’re so sure.”

And to the Father’s ears came this request: “That you take me to Washington as soon as my heart is right, introduce me to President Roosevelt and let me shake hands with him.” “All right,” said the Father, after he had overcome his surprise. “I’ll Bee if I can fix it.” And that morning a letter went to the President saying tliai he had been picked out as a Christmas present. Naturally, any man would have felt pleased, no matter how high his station, and, in the case of the President, father of boys, it had a special appeal. The letter soon reached Washington then back came an answer, addressed not to the Father, but to the Boy! The White House. Washington. November 13, 1907. Dear Curtis: “Your father has just written me, and I want him to bring you on and shake hands with me as soon as you are well enough to travel. Then 1 am going to give von, myself, a .copy of the book containing my hunting trips since I have been President j unless you will wait until the new edition, which contains two more chapters, is out. If so, I will send it to you, as this new edition probably won’t be ready when you come on here. Give my warm regards to your father and mother. Sincerely yours, THEODORE ROOSEVELT.

Here was joy serene, but the Boy’s heart had acted queerly for a few days, and so the Father wrote, thanked the President, and said that as soon as the heart moderated a hit the letter would be given the Boy. It was a rare bit of consideration that now followed. No sooner had the Father’s letter reached the White House when an answer came back by first post—this time with a special delivery stamp on it. It was Theodore Roosevelt, the father, who wrote this time—his mind and time filled with affairs of state and yet full of tender thoughtfulness for the little hoy.

The White House Washington. ‘ November 18, 1907.

Dear Mr. I have your letter of the 16th instant. I hope the little fellow will soon be alright. Instead of giving him my letter, give him a message from me based on the letter, if that will be better for him. Tell Mrs. how deeply Mrs. Roosevelt and I sympathise with her. We know just how she feels.

Sincerely yours, THEODORE ROOSEVELT

“That’s mighty fine consideration,” said the Father, as he read the letter aloud to a group of business friends. Some there were in that group who keenly differed with the President on National issues, but they were all fathers, and two of the sturdiest turned and walked to the window as they said: “Yes, that is finel” The came the Boy’s delirious pleasure when he was handed the letter, and the next few days was spent in inditing'an answer to “my friend, the President.” At last the momentous epistle seemed satisfactory, and off to the busy Presidential desk went a boyish letter, full of thanks and full of assurances that he would come just as soon as he could, and for the President not to get impatient. The “soon as he could” time, however did not come as quickly as all hoped—a little heart pumped for days full oxygen and accelerated by hypol- - injections is slow to mend. But the President’s letter was framed, hung on the very spot on the wall first looked at in the morning, and it was a daily consolation. Then, in March, - although four months after the promise—'and it wouldn’t have been strange if in a busy Presidential life it might have been forgotton or at least overlooked .—on the- very day that the book was published came a special “largepaper” copy of '“The Outdoor Pastimes of an American Hunter,” and

on tlio flyleaf there greeted the Boy, in the,President’s own hand:

To Master Onrtis With the best wishes of his friend Theodore Roosevelt. March 11th., 1908.

The Boy’s cup was now full, and so said his letter that went to tlio President. And the President wrote hack to the Rather: “I am immensely amused and interested, and shall bo mighty glad to see the. little fellow.” And in the spring, on a heautilul May day, came the great day. The Mother had'to go along, the Boy insisted, to see the great event, and so the trio found themselves shaking hands with the President’s secretary at the White House.

“Oh, the President is looking for you, all right,” he said to the Boy, and the next minute the three were in a large room. A sturdy, stockilybuilt nian with face beaming all over was striding steadily across the room, and with a

“Well, well, and so this is my friend Curtis!” the President of the United States and the little Boy were looking into each other’s faces, each fairly bathed in smiles, and each industriously shaking hands with the other.

“Yes, Mr. President, I’m mighty glad to see you!” said the Boy, and

“So I am to see you, Curtis,” came from the President.

Then came a white rose from the President’s desk for the Mother, and after that the Father and Mother might as well have faded away. Nobody existed—save the President and the Boy. The anteroom was full; in the Cabinet-room was a delegation waiting to be addressed. But the affairs of State were at a complete standstill as, with boyish zeal, the President became oblivious to all but the Boy before him, and with a “Now, Curtis, I’ve got some picturer, here of bears that a friend of mine has just shot. Look at that whopper, 1500 pounds—that’s as much as a horse weighs, you know. Now, my friend shot him” —and it was a toss-up who was the more keenly interested, the real boy or the man boy, as picture after picture came out and hear adventure crowded upon the heels of bear adventure. “Gee, he’s a corker, all right!” came from the boy at one point, and then, from the President: “That’s right, he is a corker. Now, you see his head here”—and then they were both off again. Suddenly the Boy looked around the room and said: “Where’s your gun, Mr. Roosevelt? Got it here?” “No,” laughingly came from the President, “but I’ll tell you—” And then the two heads- came together again. A moment for breath-taking came, and the Boy said : “Aren’t you ever afraid of being shot?” “You mean while I’m hunting?” “Oh, no. I mean as President.” “No,” replied the smiling President. “I’ll tell you, Curtis; I’m too busy to think about that. I have too inany things to do to bother about anything like that. When I was in battle I was always too anxious to get to the front to think about shots. And here—well, here I’m too busy, too. Never think about it. But I’ll tell you, Curtis, there are some men down there,” pointing out of the window in the direction of the Capitol, “called the Congress, and if they woxdd only give me the four battleships I want I’d be perfectly willing for anyone to take a crack at me.” Then for the first time recognising the existence of the parents standing, the President- said: “And I don’t know but if they did pick me off I’d be pretty well ahead of the game.”

Just in that moment only did the boy-knowing President get a single inch above the boy-interest. Not at another* time did the talk go ahead of the Boy. It was astonishing to see the natural accuracy with which the man knew the boy-level and never went above It.

“Now how would you like to see a bear. Curtis?” came next. “I know where there is a beauty, 1200 pounds.” “Must be a bird,” .interjected the Boy.

“That’s what he is,” put in the President, “Regular cinnamonbrown type—” And then off went the talk to the big bear at the Washington “Zoo,” where the President was to send the Boy.

Then, after a little, came: “Now, Curtis, see those men over there in that room. They’ve travelled from all parts of the country to come here at my invitation, and I’ve got to make a little speech to them, and I’ll do that while you go off and see the bear.” ,

And then the hand came forth to say good-bye. The Boy put his in it and looked into the other’s face, on which there was not a place big enough to put a ten cent, piece that was not wreathed in smiles. ‘ ‘He’s all right,” said the Boy. And he looked after the-President. .p-y

Almost to the other room had the President gone when- he looked back to find the Boy following him with

his eyes. He stopped, and then the two instinctively sought each other again. The President ■ came' hack and the boy wont forward. This time each held out both hands, and as each looked once more into the other’s eyes a world of complete understanding was in each other’s faces, and every face in those two rooms was basked in smiles.

“Good-bye, Curtis,” came at last from the President.

“Good-bye, Mr. Roosevelt,” came from the Boy.

Then with another pump-handle shake and with a “Gee, but lie’s great, all right!” the Boy went out to see the cinnamon bear at- the “Zoo,” and to live to tell it all over in the days to come. Two boy-hearts had simply met, although one of them belonged to the President of the United States.