One day while Theodore Roosevelt was Assistant Secretary of the Navy, he prevailed on Mr. Riis to go home with him. In those days the Roosevelt children were little. Instead of rushing upon Mr. Roosevelt when he entered the door, as was their custom later, they waited their father’s coming in the nursery. Entering the house, Mr. Roosevelt invited Mr. Riis to go up with him to see the babies. Mrs. Roosevelt met them in the hall with the warning that he was not to play bear, that the baby was being put to sleep. However, when the two arrived in the nursery, the baby itself squirmed out of the nurse’s arms and growled and clawed at the father very much like a little bear cub, and, thus incited, the rest of the children flew upon him with all of the amazing vigor of childhood. The house was in a turmoil. No menagerie in its wildest moment gave forth more shrieks, howls and thumps. As a climax the door opened and Mrs. Roosevelt, wearing a look of great sternness, stood viewing the scene. Thereupon her husband arose meekly from the floor explaining that the baby was thoroughly awake when he arrived. This story explains the following: One day, when Roosevelt was Police Commissioner, a policeman was ordered before him on charges. Roosevelt reviewed his past offences and resolved to dismiss him. The stage was set for the dismissal; only the formalities remained. But someone had told the culprit the Commissioner’s weak side. In the morning as Roosevelt came from a romp with his babies, the doomed policeman stood before him surrounded by eleven weeping youngsters. Roosevelt’s stern expression relaxed to one of instant sympathy. “Where is your wife, O’Keefe?” “Dead, Sir!” Dead! And this man, left alone with all these children! Clearly it would be inhuman to discharge him. He must be given one more chance. [Illustration: COPYRIGHT, LE GENDRE ROOSEVELT, THE FIGHTER] Out went the patrolman with his new lease of life. And his first duty was to return to his neighbors in the tenement the nine children he had borrowed to accompany his own two in his task of melting the heart of the Comissioner. Some years ago, a man Roosevelt had met out West wrote this letter to him: “Dear Colonel: I write you because I am in trouble. I have shot a lady in the eye. But, Colonel, I was not shooting at the lady. I was shooting at my wife.” Roosevelt replied to his friend in need that while he appreciated marksmanship in almost every form, he drew the line at shooting at ladies, whether or not they were related to the man who held the gun. [Illustration: COPYRIGHT, LE GENDRE ROOSEVELT, THE MAN]