My Brother, Theodore Roosevelt

by Corinne Roosevelt Robinson

From left to right: Theodore Roosevelt, aged 14¾ years; Elliott Roosevelt, aged 13½ years; Maud Elliott, aged 12¾ years; Corinne Roosevelt, aged 11¾ years; John Elliott, aged 14½ years. July 1, 1873.

The work for the D. L. A. C. proved to be a very entertaining pastime, and great competition ensued. A motto was chosen by “Johnnie” and “Ellie,” who were the wits of the society. The motto was spoken of with bated breath and mysteriously inscribed W. A. N. A. underneath the mystic signs of D. L. A. C. For many a long year no one but those in our strictest confidence were allowed to know that “W. A. N. A.” stood for “We Are No Asses.” This, perhaps somewhat untruthful statement, was objected to originally by “Teedie,” who firmly maintained that the mere making of such a motto showed that “Johnnie” and “Ellie” were certainly exceptions that proved that rule. “Teedie” himself, struggling as usual with terrible attacks of asthma that perpetually undermined his health and strength, was all the same, between the attacks, the ringleader in fun and gaiety and every imaginable humorous adventure. He was a slender, overgrown boy at the time, and wore his hair long in true German student fashion, and adopted a would-be philosopher type of look, effectively enhanced by trousers that were outgrown, and coat sleeves so short that they gave him a “Smike”-like appearance. His contributions to the immortal literary club were either serious and very accurate from a natural-historical standpoint, or else they showed, as comparatively few of his later writings have shown, the delightful quality of humor which, through his whole busy life, lightened for him every load and criticism. I cannot resist giving in full the fascinating little story called “Mrs. Field Mouse’s Dinner Party,” in which the personified animals played social parts, in the portrayal of which my brother divulged (my readers must remember he was only fourteen) a knowledge of “society” life, its acrid jealousies and hypocrisies, of which he never again seemed to be conscious.

MRS. FIELD MOUSE’S DINNER PARTY

By Theodore Roosevelt—Aged Fourteen

“My Dear,” said Mrs. M. to Mr. M. one day as they were sitting on an elegant acorn sofa, just after breakfast, “My Dear, I think that we really must give a dinner party.” “A What, my love?” exclaimed Mr. M. in a surprised tone. “A Dinner Party”; returned Mrs. M. firmly, “you have no objections I suppose?”

“Of course not, of course not,” said Mr. M. hastily, for there was an ominous gleam in his wife’s eye. “But—but why have it yet for a while, my love?” “Why indeed! A pretty question! After that odious Mrs. Frog’s great tea party the other evening! But that is just it, you never have any proper regard for your station in life, and on me involves all the duty of keeping up appearances, and after all this is the gratitude I get for it!” And Mrs. M. covered her eyes and fell into hysterics of 50 flea power. Of course, Mr. M. had to promise to have it whenever she liked.

“Then the day after tomorrow would not be too early, I suppose?” “My Dear,” remonstrated the unfortunate Mr. M., but Mrs. M. did not heed him and continued: “You could get the cheese and bread from Squeak, Nibble & Co. with great ease, and the firm of Brown House and Wood Rats, with whom you have business relations, you told me, could get the other necessaries.”

“But in such a short time,” commenced Mr. M. but was sharply cut off by the lady; “Just like you, Mr. M.! Always raising objections! and when I am doing all I can to help you!” Symptoms of hysterics and Mr. M. entirely convinced, the lady continues: “Well, then we will have it the day after tomorrow. By the way, I hear that Mr. Chipmunck has got in a new supply of nuts, and you might as well go over after breakfast and get them, before they are bought by someone else.”

“I have a business engagement with Sir Butterfly in an hour,” began Mr. M. but stopped, meekly got his hat and went off at a glance from Mrs. M.’s eye.

When he was gone, the lady called down her eldest daughter, the charming Miss M. and commenced to arrange for the party.

“We will use the birch bark plates,”—commenced Mrs. M.

“And the chestnut ‘tea set,’” put in her daughter.

“With the maple leaf vases, of course,” continued Mrs. M.

“And the eel bone spoons and forks,” added Miss M.

“And the dog tooth knives,” said the lady.

“And the slate table cloth,” replied her daughter.

“Where shall we have the ball anyhow,” said Mrs. M.

“Why, Mr. Blind Mole has let his large subterranean apartments and that would be the best place,” said Miss M.

“Sir Lizard’s place, ‘Shady Nook,’ which we bought the other day, is far better I think,” said Mrs. M. “But I don’t,” returned her daughter. “Miss M. be still,” said her mother sternly, and Miss M. was still. So it was settled that the ball was to be held at ‘Shady Nook.’

“As for the invitations, Tommy Cricket will carry them around,” said Mrs. M. “But who shall we have?” asked her daughter. After some discussion, the guests were determined on. Among them were all the Family of Mice and Rats, Sir Lizard, Mr. Chipmunck, Sir Shrew, Mrs. Shrew, Mrs. Bullfrog, Miss Katydid, Sir Grasshopper, Lord Beetle, Mr. Ant, Sir Butterfly, Miss Dragonfly, Mr. Bee, Mr. Wasp, Mr. Hornet, Madame Maybug, Miss Lady Bird, and a number of others. Messrs. Gloworm and Firefly agreed to provide lamps as the party was to be had at night. Mr. M., by a great deal of exertion, got the provisions together in time, and Miss M. did the same with the furniture, while Mrs. M. superintended generally, and was a great bother.

Water Bug & Co. conveyed everything to Shady Nook, and so at the appointed time everything was ready, and the whole family, in their best ball dresses, waited for the visitors.

* * * * *

The fisrt visitor to arrive was Lady Maybug. “Stupid old thing; always first,” muttered Mrs. M., and then aloud, “How charming it is to see you so prompt, Mrs. Maybug; I can always rely on your being here in time.”

“Yes Ma’am, oh law! but it is so hot—oh law! and the carriage, oh law! almost broke down; oh law! I did really think I never should get here—oh law!” and Mrs. Maybug threw herself on the sofa; but the sofa unfortunately had one weak leg, and as Mrs. Maybug was no light weight, over she went. While Mrs. M. (inwardly swearing if ever a mouse swore) hastened to her assistance, and in the midst of the confusion caused by this accident, Tommy Cricket (who had been hired for waiter and dressed in red trousers accordingly) threw open the door and announced in a shrill pipe, “Nibble Squeak & Co., Mum,” then hastily correcting himself, as he received a dagger like glance from Mrs. M., “Mr. Nibble and Mr. Squeak, Ma’am,” and precipitately retreated through the door. Meanwhile the unfortunate Messrs. Nibble and Squeak, who while trying to look easy in their new clothes, had luckily not heard the introduction, were doing their best to bow gracefully to Miss Maybug and Miss Mouse, the respective mamas of these young ladies having pushed them rapidly forward as each of the ladies was trying to get up a match between the rich Mr. Squeak and her daughter, although Miss M. preferred Mr. Woodmouse and Miss Maybug, Mr. Hornet. In the next few minutes the company came pouring in (among them Mr. Woodmouse, accompanying Miss Katydid, at which sight Miss M. turned green with envy), and after a very short period the party was called in to dinner, for the cook had boiled the hickory nuts too long and they had to be sent up immediately or they would be spoiled. Mrs. M. displayed great generalship in the arrangement of the people, Mr. Squeak taking in Miss M., Mr. Hornet, Miss Maybug, and Mr. Woodmouse, Miss Katydid. But now Mr. M. had invited one person too many for the plates, and so Mr. M. had to do without one. At first this was not noticed, as each person was seeing who could get the most to eat, with the exception of those who were love-making, but after a while, Sir Lizard, (a great swell and a very high liver) turned round and remarked, “Ee-aw, I say, Mr. M., why don’t you take something more to eat?” “Mr. M. is not at all hungry tonight, are you my dear?” put in Mrs. M. smiling at Sir Lizard, and frowning at Mr. M. “Not at all, not at all,” replied the latter hastily. Sir Lizard seemed disposed to continue the subject, but Mr. Moth, (a very scientific gentleman) made a diversion by saying, “Have you seen my work on ‘Various Antenae’? In it I demonstrated clearly the superiority of feathered to knobbed Antenae and”—“Excuse me, Sir,” interrupted Sir Butterfly, “but you surely don’t mean to say—”

“Excuse me, if you please,” replied Mr. Moth sharply, “but I do mean it, and if you read my work, you will perceive that the rays of feather-like particles on the trunk of the Antenae deriving from the center in straight or curved lines generally”—at this moment Mr. Moth luckily choked himself and seizing the lucky instant, Mrs. M. rang for the desert.

There was a sort of struggling noise in the pantry, but that was the only answer. A second ring, no answer. A third ring; and Mrs. M. rose in majestic wrath, and in dashed the unlucky Tommy Cricket with the cheese, but alas, while half way in the room, the beautiful new red trousers came down, and Tommy and cheese rolled straight into Miss Dragon Fly who fainted without any unnecessary delay, while the noise of Tommy’s howls made the room ring. There was great confusion immediately, and while Tommy was being kicked out of the room, and while Lord Beetle was emptying a bottle of rare rosap over Miss Dragon Fly, in mistake for water, Mrs. M. gave a glance at Mr. M., which made him quake in his shoes, and said in a low voice, “Provoking thing! now you see the good of no suspenders”—“But my dear, you told me not to”—began Mr. M., but was interrupted by Mrs. M. “Don’t speak to me, you—” but here Miss Katydid’s little sister struck in on a sharp squeak. “Katy kissed Mr. Woodmouse!” “Katy didn’t,” returned her brother. “Katy did,” “Katy didn’t,” “Katy did,” “Katy didn’t.” All eyes were now turned on the crimsoning Miss Katydid, but she was unexpectedly saved by the lamps suddenly commencing to burn blue!

“There, Mr. M.! Now you see what you have done!” said the lady of the house, sternly.

“My dear, I told you they could not get enough oil if you had the party so early. It was your own fault,” said Mr. M. worked up to desperation.

Mrs. M. gave him a glance that would have annihilated three millstones of moderate size, from its sharpness, and would have followed the example of Miss Dragon Fly, but was anticipated by Madame Maybug, who, as three of the lamps above her went out, fell into blue convulsions on the sofa. As the whole room was now subsiding into darkness, the company broke up and went off with some abruptness and confusion, and when they were gone, Mrs. M. turned (by the light of one bad lamp) an eagle eye on Mr. M. and said—, but we will now draw a curtain over the harrowing scene that ensued and say,

“Good Bye.”

“Teedie” not only indulged in the free play of fancy such as the above, but wrote with extraordinary system and regularity for a boy of fourteen to his mother and father, and perhaps these letters, written in the far-away Dresden atmosphere, show more conclusively than almost any others the character, the awakening mind, the forceful mentality of the young and delicate boy. On May 29, in a letter to his mother, a very parental letter about his homesick little sister who had not yet been taken from the elderly family in which she was so unhappy, he drops into a lighter vein and says: “I have overheard a good deal of Minckwitz conversation which they did not think I understood; Father was considered ‘very pretty’ (sehr hübsch) and his German ‘exceedingly beautiful,’ neither of which statements I quite agree with.” And a week or two later, writing to his father, he describes, after referring casually to a bad attack of asthma, an afternoon of tag and climbing trees, supper out in the open air, and long walks through the green fields dotted with the blue cornflowers and brilliant red poppies. True to his individual tastes, he says: “When I am not studying my lessons or out walking I spend all my time in translating natural history, wrestling with Richard, a young cousin of the Minckwitz’ whom I can throw as often as he throws me, and I also sometimes cook, although my efforts in the culinary art are really confined to grinding coffee, beating eggs or making hash, and such light labors.” Later he writes again: “The boxing gloves are a source of great amusement; you ought to have seen us after our ‘rounds’ yesterday.” The foregoing “rounds” were described even more graphically by “Ellie” in a letter to our uncle, Mr. Gracie, as follows: “Father, you know, sent us a pair of boxing gloves apiece and Teedie, Johnnie, and I have had jolly fun with them. Last night in a round of one minute and a half with Teedie, he got a bloody nose and I got a bloody mouth, and in a round with Johnnie, I got a bloody mouth again and he a pair of purple eyes. Then Johnnie gave Teedie another bloody nose. [The boys by this time seemed to have multiplied their features indefinitely with more purple eyes!] We do enjoy them so! Boxing is one of Teedie’s and my favorite amusements; it is such a novelty to be made to see stars when it is not night.” No wonder that later “Ellie” contributed what I called in one of my later letters a “tragical” article called “Bloody Hand” for the D. L. A. C., perhaps engendered by the memory of all those bloody mouths and noses!

“Teedie” himself, in writing to his Aunt Annie, describes himself as a “bully boy with a black eye,” and in the same letter, which seems to be in answer to one in which this devoted aunt had described an unusual specimen to interest him, he says:

“Dear darling little Nancy: I have received your letter concerning the wonderful animal and although the fact of your having described it as having horns and being carnivorous has occasioned me grave doubts as to your veracity, yet I think in course of time a meeting may be called by the Roosevelt Museum and the matter taken into consideration, although this will not happen until after we have reached America. The Minckwitz family are all splendid but very superstitious. My scientific pursuits cause the family a good deal of consternation.

“My arsenic was confiscated and my mice thrown (with the tongs) out of the window. In cases like this I would approach a refractory female, mouse in hand, corner her, and bang the mouse very near her face until she was thoroughly convinced of the wickedness of her actions. Here is a view of such a scene.

I am getting along very well with German and studying really hard. Your loving T. R., Secretary and Librarian of Roosevelt Museum. (Shall I soon hail you as a brother, I mean sister member of the Museum?)”

Evidently the carnivorous animal with horns was a stepping-stone to membership in the exclusive Roosevelt Museum!