After the return to the White House, the President and Mrs. Roosevelt entertained about two hundred persons at luncheon, including their new official family and intimate friends and relatives, and then the entire party walked to the reviewing stand in front of the White House facing the “Court of History.” There the President reviewed the largest pageant which had ever assembled in marching order for an inauguration. This parade was noteworthy because of its many unique features. Besides the Rough Riders, Philippine native scouts, Porto Ricans, and Carlisle Indians, there was a large number of cowboys in full regalia, led by Seth Bullock, the famous Sheriff of Deadwood, S. D., and a phalanx of 600 of the fellow citizens, friends, and neighbours of the Roosevelts from Oyster Bay, disproving the old saying that “a prophet is not without honour save in his own country.” In addition to the Richmond Blues, in their handsome blue and white uniforms and waving plumes, which are always to be honoured as the oldest military organization in the country, and the Lincoln Club of Toledo whose royal purple broke the monotony of colour, there was also a body of miners from the anthracite coal region whose banner expressed their sentiments, “WE HONOUR THE MAN WHO SETTLED OUR STRIKE.” Most interesting, at least to the juvenile portion of onlookers, were Buffalo Bill and the band of Indian chiefs led by Geronimo, including American Horse, Little Plume, Quanah Parker, Buckskin Charley, and Hollow Horn Bear. These braves were a startling reminder of the pioneer history of the country, in their vivid blankets of varied hues, their gaudy feather bonnets, and hideous war paint. Like Remington’s pictures, upon which a magic touch had bestowed life and motion, they majestically swung into view and then were gone--swallowed up in the surging maelstrom of humanity, a brilliant, flashing, terrible page out of the past, when their names were synonymous with massacre, reeking scalps, and murderous tomahawks. So vividly was this impression called to life that it was hard to realize that these old-time “bad Indians” had smoked the pipe of peace for all time and were riding along in loyal allegiance to the Great Father.