However, it was an American, albeit of Dutch extraction, one whom he believed to be the greatest American in his own day, who had set him thinking and shown him the way.

CHAPTER XVII

THE PRESIDENT AND THE BOY

One of the incidents connected with Edward Bok that Theodore Roosevelt never forgot was when Bok’s eldest boy chose the Colonel as a Christmas present.  And no incident better portrays the wonderful character of the Colonel than did his remarkable response to the compliment.

A vicious attack of double pneumonia had left the heart of the boy very weak—­and Christmas was close by!  So the father said: 

“It’s a quiet Christmas for you this year, boy.  Suppose you do this:  think of the one thing in the world that you would rather have than anything else and I’ll give you that, and that will have to 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 have wanted 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 astonished ears came this request: 

“Take me to Washington as soon as my heart is all right, introduce me to President Roosevelt, and let me shake hands with him.”

“All right,” said the father, after recovering from his surprise.  “I’ll see whether I can fix it.”  And that morning a letter went to the President saying that he had been chosen as a Christmas present.  Naturally, any man would have felt pleased, no matter how high his station, and for Theodore Roosevelt, father of boys, the message had a special appeal.

The letter had no sooner reached Washington than back came an answer, addressed not to the father but to the boy!  It read: 

The White House, Washington.

November 13th, 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 I am going to give you, myself, a copy of the book containing my hunting trips since I have been President; 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 bit 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 than 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 a little boy: