ood-bye, blessed fellow!

"VALUABLEST" KIND OF RABBITS

(To his sister, Mrs. W. S. Cowles)

White House, Oct. 2, 1903.

Tell Sheffield that Quentin is now going to the public school. As yet he
has preserved an attitude of dignified reserve concerning his feelings
on the subject. He has just been presented with two white rabbits, which
he brought in while we were at lunch yesterday, explaining that they
were "the valuablest kind with pink eyes."

A PREACHING LETTER

White House, Oct. 2, 1903.

DEAR KERMIT:

I was very glad to get your letter. Am glad you are playing football.
I should be very sorry to see either you or Ted devoting most of your
attention to athletics, and I haven't got any special ambition to see
you shine overmuch in athletics at college, at least (if you go there),
because I think it tends to take up too much time; but I do like to feel
that you are manly and able to hold your own in rough, hardy sports. I
would rather have a boy of mine stand high in his studies than high in
athletics, but I could a great deal rather have him show true manliness
of character than show either intellectual or physical prowess; and I
believe you and Ted both bid fair to develop just such character.

There! you will think this a dreadfully preaching letter! I suppose
I have a natural tendency to preach just at present because I am
overwhelmed with my work. I enjoy being President, and I like to do
the work and have my hand on the lever. But it is very worrying and
puzzling, and I have to make up my mind to accept every kind of attack
and misrepresentation. It is a great comfort to me to read the life and
letters of Abraham Lincoln. I am more and more impressed every day, not
only with the man's wonderful power and sagacity, but with his literally
endless patience, and at the same time his unflinching resolution.

PROPER PLACE FOR SPORTS

White House, Oct. 4, 1903.

DEAR TED:

In spite of the "Hurry! Hurry!" on the outside of your envelope, I did
not like to act until I had consulted Mother and thought the matter
over; and to be frank with you, old fellow, I am by no means sure that
I am doing right now. If it were not that I feel you will be so bitterly
disappointed, I would strongly advocate your acquiescing in the decision
to leave you off the second squad this year. I am proud of your pluck,
and I greatly admire football--though it was not a game I was ever able
to play myself, my qualities