Letters to His Children | Page 6

Theodore Roosevelt
of proportion. It is never worth while to absolutely exhaust one's
self or to take big chances unless for an adequate object. I want you to
keep in training the faculties which would make you, if the need arose,
able to put your last ounce of pluck and strength into a contest. But I do
not want you to squander these qualities. To have you play football as
well as you do, and make a good name in boxing and wrestling, and be
cox of your second crew, and stand second or third in your class in the
studies, is all right. I should be rather sorry to see you drop too near the
middle of your class, because, as you cannot enter college until you are
nineteen, and will therefore be a year later in entering life, I want you
to be prepared in the best possible way, so as to make up for the delay.
But I know that all you can do you will do to keep substantially the
position in the class that you have so far kept, and I have entire trust in
you, for you have always deserved it.
The weather has been lovely here. The cherry trees are in full bloom,
the peach trees just opening, while the apples will not be out for ten
days. The May flowers and bloodroot have gone, the anemonies and
bellwort have come and the violets are coming. All the birds are here,
pretty much, and the warblers troop through the woods.
To my delight, yesterday Kermit, when I tried him on Diamond, did
excellently. He has evidently turned the corner in his riding, and was
just as much at home as possible, although he was on my saddle with
his feet thrust in the leathers above the stirrup. Poor mother has had a
hard time with Yagenka, for she rubbed her back, and as she sadly
needs exercise and I could not have a saddle put upon her, I took her
out bareback yesterday. Her gaits are so easy that it is really more
comfortable to ride her without a saddle than to ride Texas with one,
and I gave her three miles sharp cantering and trotting.
Dewey Jr. is a very cunning white guinea pig. I wish you could see
Kermit taking out Dewey Sr. and Bob Evans to spend the day on the

grass. Archie is the sweetest little fellow imaginable. He is always
thinking of you. He has now struck up a great friendship with Nicholas,
rather to Mame's (the nurse's) regret, as Mame would like to keep him
purely for Quentin. The last-named small boisterous person was in
fearful disgrace this morning, having flung a block at his mother's head.
It was done in sheer playfulness, but of course could not be passed over
lightly, and after the enormity of the crime had been brought fully
home to him, he fled with howls of anguish to me and lay in an
abandon of yellow-headed grief in my arms. Ethel is earning money for
the purchase of the Art Magazine by industriously hoeing up the weeds
in the walk. Alice is going to ride Yagenka bareback this afternoon,
while I try to teach Ethel on Diamond, after Kermit has had his ride.
Yesterday at dinner we were talking of how badly poor Mrs. Blank
looked, and Kermit suddenly observed in an aside to Ethel, entirely
unconscious that we were listening: "Oh, Effel, I'll tell you what Mrs.
Blank looks like: Like Davis' hen dat died--you know, de one dat
couldn't hop up on de perch." Naturally, this is purely a private
anecdote.

ARCHIE AND QUENTIN
Oyster Bay, May 7, 1901.
BLESSED TED:
Recently I have gone in to play with Archie and Quentin after they
have gone to bed, and they have grown to expect me, jumping up, very
soft and warm in their tommies, expecting me to roll them over on the
bed and tickle and "grabble" in them. However, it has proved rather too
exciting, and an edict has gone forth that hereafter I must play bear
with them before supper, and give up the play when they have gone to
bed. To-day was Archie's birthday, and Quentin resented Archie's
having presents while he (Quentin) had none. With the appalling
frankness of three years old, he remarked with great sincerity that "it
made him miserable," and when taken to task for his lack of altruistic

spirit he expressed an obviously perfunctory repentance and said: "Well,
boys must lend boys things, at any rate!"

INCIDENTS OF HOME-COMING
Oyster Bay, May 31st, 1901.
BLESSED TED:
I enclose some Filipino Revolutionary postage stamps. Maybe some of
the boys would like them.
Have you made up your mind whether you would like to try shooting
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