and forgot the shop; turning his
attention also to any and every object which he could bore, chisel, saw
or hack with his tools. Nothing was said in remonstrance until he began
to experiment on the old-fashioned mahogany furniture in the East room,
when that tool chest mysteriously disappeared and no amount of
searching ever brought it to light again.

As he was unable to exist without some new outlet for his feelings he
decided to have a theatre and give shows, for which purpose he
appropriated an unused room in the White House, and had a fine time
fitting it up with a stage, seats, orchestra, drop-curtain and all. At
that time, Mr. Carpenter, an artist, was at work on a portrait of
President Lincoln and his Cabinet, and when it was found necessary to
take several photographs of the room in the White House which was to be
the background for the painting, Tad's theatre was offered to the
photographers to use in developing their pictures, and Mr. Carpenter
used to tell with a chuckle of delight how all went well till Tad
suddenly discovered the invasion of his room, when he fell upon the
artist and blamed him in a fiery burst of temper, for letting the men
into his room, and then went up and calmly locked the door, pocketed
the key and walked off, leaving the astonished photographers without
occupation, as their apparatus and chemicals were in the room. But that
made no difference to tyrant Tad--no one should go into his theatre, he
said, and no amount of urging moved him. Finally the President was
asked to deal with the young rebel, as was usual when Tad's behaviour
presented impossibilities to the general public. Mr. Lincoln was
sitting ready to be photographed at the time. He listened quietly to
the story, and then called Tad and told him to go and open the door.
Tad rushed off, muttering and shaking his head but he absolutely
refused to obey, even though Mr. Carpenter made use of all the
arguments he could think of, to make him yield. Reluctantly the artist
went back to the room where the President sat and he at once asked:

"Has the boy opened that door?"

Mr. Carpenter was obliged to say that he had not, and Lincoln slowly
rose, compressing his lips and strode out of the room. Soon he
returned, carrying the key, which he handed to the artist saying
apologetically:

"He is a peculiar child. He was violently excited when I went to him. I
said 'Tad, do you know you are making your father a great deal of
trouble?'