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188   My Brother Theodore Roosevelt

`Happy Jack' read, way out in Arizona, about the annoyance I was having with these people, and he just packed his kit and came all the way from Arizona to offer to be 'bouncer-out' of the executive mansion ! Wasn't that fine of `Happy Jack'!"

Several years later, when my brother was President of the United States, I was in England and I spent a week-end with the St. Loe Stracheys in Surrey, where Lord and Lady Cromer were also passing Sunday. Lord Cromer having, as a young man, visited our Western plains and prairies, adored the stories of the Rough Riders, and especially the incident of "Happy Jack's" desire to become "bouncer-out" of the executive mansion. He loved the story so much that he insisted upon my telling it to another English peer, in whom the sense of humor was less striking than in Lord Cromer. I shall never forget the dreary sensation of struggling to tell Earl S    that particular story. We were at a rather dreary garden-party, and Lord Cromer had presented his friend for the special purpose of having me tell this Rough Rider story. Much against my will, I acceded to his request, and the story seemed to get longer and longer and duller and duller in the telling. Having mentioned the "perfect treasure" of a butler in the beginning of the tale, that

seemed to be the rudder to which Earl S    clung through the involutions of Rough Riderism, and as I stumbled on to the everlengthening end of that unfortunate anecdote, the English peer in question turned to me as I fell into silence and said, coldly and courteously: "Is that all?" "Yes," I said hastily, "quite all." "Oh!" said my companion, with a sigh of relief, and then feeling that he had not been quite sufficiently sympathetic, he added courteously: "And did the butler stay?" When I returned with this sequel to the story of "Happy Jack" of Arizona and recounted it to my brother, he laughed immoderately and said: "I know you must have suffered telling the story, but that postscript to the story is worth all the pain you suffered."

One afternoon in May, I think in the year igoo, my brother telephoned me that he wanted to bring several men to dinner

The Rough Rider Storms the Capitol 189

the following day, amongst others, Mr. Winston Churchill, of England, now so well known all over the world, but then still very young, though having had many experiences as a writer in connection with the Boer War. He was making a speaking tour in America. As usual, the little party grew, and when we assembled at dinner the following evening, dear old General Wheeler (Fighting Joe), Mr. St. Clair McKelway, of the Brooklyn Eagle, and one or two others, I remember being very much interested in Mr. Churchill's method of probing Governor Roosevelt's mind. The young Englishman, of mixed parentage, had on his American side a certain quality unusual in the average Englishman, and the rapid fire of his questioning was very characteristic of the land of his mother's birth, while a certain "sureness" of point of view might be attributed to both countries. At one period during the dinner he referred to a certain incident that had occurred in Africa, and relegated it to the action which took place at Bloemfontein. My brother very courteously said: "I beg your pardon, but that particular incident took place, if I am not mistaken, at Magersfontein." The young Englishman flushed and repeated with determination that it had occurred at Bloemfontein, and added the fact, which was already known to us, that he had been there. My brother again, his head a little on one side, and still most courteously, reiterated: "I think, Mr. Churchill, if you will stop and think for a moment, you will remember that I am right in this instance, and that that incident took place at Magersfontein." Mr. Churchill paused a moment in the ever-ready flow of his talk and then suddenly, with a rather self-conscious frown, said: "You are right, governor, and I am mistaken. It did occur at Magersfontein." This anecdote I give simply to show, what is known by all who were intimate with my brother, namely, the extraordinary accuracy with which he followed the affairs of the day, and the equally extraordinary memory which retained the detail of individual occurrences in a most unusual manner. In the soft spring air we sat later in the evening by the open win-

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