e all
right and as fresh as paint, for he has been three days in the stable.
But to-day is just a glorious spring day--March having ended as it
began, with rain and snow--and I will have a good ride. I miss Mother
and you children very much, of course, but I believe you are having a
good time, and I am really glad you are to see Havana.

A BIG AND LONELY WHITE HOUSE

White House, April 1, 1906.

DARLING QUENTY-QUEE:

Slipper and the kittens are doing finely. I think the kittens will be
big enough for you to pet and have some satisfaction out of when you
get home, although they will be pretty young still. I miss you all
dreadfully, and the house feels big and lonely and full of echoes with
nobody but me in it; and I do not hear any small scamps running up and
down the hall just as hard as they can; or hear their voices while I am
dressing; or suddenly look out through the windows of the office at the
tennis ground and see them racing over it or playing in the sand-box. I
love you very much.

A NEW PUPPY AND A NEW HORSE

White House, April 12, 1906.

DEAR KERMIT:

. . . . .

Last night I played "tickley" in their room with the two little boys. As
we rolled and bounced over all three beds in the course of the play,
not to mention frantic chases under them, I think poor Mademoiselle
was rather appalled at the result when we had finished. Archie's
seven-weeks-old St. Bernard puppy has come and it is the dearest puppy
imaginable; a huge, soft thing, which Archie carries around in his arms
and which the whole family love.

Yesterday I took a first ride on the new horse, Roswell, Captain Lee
going along on Rusty as a kind of a nurse. Roswell is not yet four and
he is really a green colt and not quite the horse I want at present, as
I haven't time to fuss with him, and am afraid of letting the Sergeant
ride him, as he does not get on well with him, and there is nobody else
in our stable that can ride at all. He is a beautiful horse, a wonderful
jumper, and does not pull at all. He shies pretty badly, especially when
he meets an automobile; and when he leaves the stable or strikes a road
that he thinks will take him home and is not allowed to go down it, he
is apt to rear, which I do not like; but I am inclined to think that he
will get over these traits, and if I can arrange to have Lee handle him
a couple of months more, and if Ted and I can regularly ride him down at
Oyster Bay, I think that he will turn