It is when such pictures present themselves to our minds that we say to ourselves that Bayard Taylor wrote facts as well as poetry when he said: “The bravest are the tenderest, The loving are the daring!” If a person who knew nothing of Roosevelt’s antecedents were asked to express an opinion as to the type of boy he was, that person, reasoning from Roosevelt’s great vigor and the intensity with which he threw himself into outdoor pursuits, would say that he was a strong, healthy lad. The reverse, however, is the case. From earliest infancy Theodore Roosevelt had been subject to attacks of asthma that weakened him physically and hindered his growth. He confesses that as a little fellow he was timid, and that when larger boys strove to exercise over him that domination which the boy of an older age thinks himself privileged to exercise over a younger lad, he was backward in opposing them. It was his physical weakness that prevented him from going to school and that led him to be placed under the instruction of various tutors. “Bill” Sewall, the old woodsman and hunter, who figures in several of Roosevelt’s books, and who, for over forty years had been a close friend of Roosevelt, said after the Colonel’s death: “No, Theodore’s death did not surprise me. Men thought that he was strong and robust. He wasn’t. It was his boundless energy, his determination and his nerves that kept Theodore Roosevelt turning out the enormous quantities of work he did. Really, he suffered from heart disease all his life.” There dwelt in the boy Roosevelt an indomitable will. He also possessed a love for sports, travel and adventure such as could only be enjoyed with a strong body. Into his ken came the heroes of Captain Mayne Reid’s novels and also the heroes of Fenimore Cooper’s “Leatherstocking Tales.” He wanted to be like these men. Young as he was, he was keen enough to realize that to enter upon the career of which he dreamed he must have a sound constitution and overflowing energy. His will assumed control of his feeble body. His mind spurred his heart, limbs and lungs. He determined that the next bullying lad would have to contend with a boy with stronger muscles and heavier frame. Even as he resolved the springs of bodily vigor became loosed in the young boy. The town house became too small to hold him. Jacob Riis relates that a woman who lived next door to the Roosevelts told him that one day she saw young Theodore hanging out of a second-story window, and ran in a desperate hurry to tell his mother. What Ted’s mother said as she hurried off to rescue her son made a lasting impression on this woman: “If the Lord had not taken care of Theodore he would have been killed long ago.”