hat whopper, fifteen hundred
pounds--that's as much as a horse weighs, you know. Now, my friend
shot him"--and it was a toss-up who was the more keenly interested, the
real boy or the man-boy, as picture after picture came out and bear
adventure crowded upon the heels of bear adventure.

"Gee, he's a corker, all right!" came from the boy at one point, and
then, from the President: "That's right, he is a corker. Now you see
his head here"--and then both were off again.

The private secretary came in at this point and whispered in the
President's ear.

"I know, I know. I'll see him later. Say that I am very busy now."
And the face beamed with smiles.

"Now, Mr. President--" began the father.

"No, sir; no, sir; not at all. Affairs can wait. This is a
long-standing engagement between Curtis and me, and that must come
first. Isn't that so, Curtis?"

Of course the boy agreed.

Suddenly the boy looked around the room and said:

"Where's your gun, Mr. President? Got it here?"

"No," laughingly came from the President, "but I'll tell you"--and then
the two heads were together again.

A moment for breath-taking came, and the boy said:

"Aren't you ever afraid of being shot?"

"You mean while I am hunting?"

"Oh, no. I mean as President."

"No," replied the smiling President. "I'll tell you, Curtis; I'm too
busy to think about that. I have too many things to do to bother about
anything of that sort. When I was in battle I was always too anxious
to get to the front to think about the shots. And here--well, here I'm
too busy too. Never think about it. But I'll tell you, Curtis, there
are some men down there," pointing out of the window in the direction
of the capitol, "called the Congress, and if they would only give me
the four battleships I want, I'd be perfectly willing to have any one
take a crack at me." Then, for the first time recognizing the
existence of the parents, the President said: "And I don't know but if
they did pick me off I'd be pretty well ahead of the game."

Just in that moment only did the boy-knowing President get a single
inch above the boy-interest. It was astonishing to see the natural
accuracy with which the man gauged the boy-level.

"Now, how would you like to see a bear, Curtis?" came next, "I know
where there's a beauty, twelve hundred pounds."

"Must be some bear!" interjected the boy.

"That's what it is," put in the President. "Regular cinnamon-brown
type"-