Letters to His Children — 26. Love For The White House 1904

.

.

.

.

I am having a reasonable amount of work and rather more than a reasonable amount of worry.

But, after all, life is lovely here.

The country is beautiful, and I do not think that any two people ever got more enjoyment out of the White House than Mother and I. We love the house itself, without and within, for its associations, for its stillness and its simplicity.

We love the garden.

And we like Washington.

We almost always take our breakfast on the south portico now, Mother looking very pretty and dainty in her summer dresses.

Then we stroll about the garden for fifteen or twenty minutes, looking at the flowers and the fountain and admiring the trees.

Then I work until between four and five, usually having some official people to lunch--now a couple of Senators, now a couple of Ambassadors, now a literary man, now a capitalist or a labor leader, or a scientist, or a big-game hunter.

If Mother wants to ride, we then spend a couple of hours on horseback.

We had a lovely ride up on the Virginia shore since I came back, and yesterday went up Rock Creek and swung back home by the roads where the locust trees were most numerous--for they are now white with blossoms.

It is the last great burst of bloom which we shall see this year except the laurels.

But there are plenty of flowers in bloom or just coming out, the honeysuckle most conspicuously.

The south portico is fragrant with that now.

The jasmine will be out later.

If we don't ride, I walk or play tennis.

But I am afraid Ted has gotten out of his father's class in tennis!

PETER RABBIT'S FUNERAL

White House, May 28, 1904. DEAR KERMIT:

It was great fun seeing you and Ted, and I enjoyed it to the full.

Ethel, Archie and Quentin have gone to Mount Vernon to-day with the Garfield boys.

Yesterday poor Peter Rabbit died and his funeral was held with proper state.

Archie, in his overalls, dragged the wagon with the little black coffin in which poor Peter Rabbit lay.

Mother walked behind as chief mourner, she and Archie solemnly exchanging tributes to the worth and good qualities of the departed.

Then he was buried, with a fuchsia over the little grave.

You remember Kenneth Grahame's account of how Harold went to the circus and sang the great spheral song of the circus?

Well, yesterday Mother leaned out of her window and heard Archie, swinging under a magnolia tree, singing away to himself, "I'm going to Sagamore, to Sagamore, to Sagamore.

I'm going to Sagamore, oh, to Sagamore!"

It was his spheral song of joy and thanksgiving.

The children's delight at going to Sagamore next week has completely swallowed up all regret at leaving Mother and me.

Quentin is very cunning.

He and Archie love to play the hose into the sandbox and then, with their thigh rubber boots on, to get in and make fortifications.

Now and then they play it over each other.

Ethel is playing tennis quite a good deal.

I think Yagenka is going to come out all right, and Bleistein, too.

I have no hope for Wyoming or Renown.

Fortunately, Rusty is serving us well.

White House, June 12th, 1904. BLESSED QUENTY-QUEE:

The little birds in the nest in the vines on the garden fence are nearly grown up.

Their mother still feeds them.

You see the mother bird with a worm in her beak, and the little birds with their beaks wide open!

I was out walking the other day and passed the Zoo; there I fed with grass some of the two-year-old elk; the bucks had their horns "in the velvet."

I fed them through the bars.

White House, June 12th, 1904. BLESSED ARCHIE-KINS:

Give my love to Mademoiselle; I hope you and Quenty are _very_ good with her--and don't play in the library!

I loved your letter, and think you were very good to write.

All kinds of live things are sent me from time to time.

The other day an eagle came; this morning an owl.

(I have drawn him holding a rat in one claw.

) We sent both to the Zoo.

The other day while walking with Mr. Pinchot and Mr. Garfield we climbed into the Blagden deer park and almost walked over such a pretty wee fawn, all spotted; it ran off like a little race horse.

It made great jumps and held its white tail straight in the air.

White House, June 21, 1904. DEAR QUENTY-QUEE:

The other day when out riding what should I see in the road ahead of me but a real B'rer Terrapin and B'rer Rabbit.

They were sitting solemnly beside one another and looked just as if they had come out of a book;

but as my horse walked along B'rer Rabbit went lippity lippity lippity off into the bushes and B'rer Terrapin drew in his head and legs till I passed.

CHARMS OF VALLEY FORGE

White House, June 21, 1904.