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"--and then off went the talk to the big bear at the Washington "Zoo" where the President was to send the boy.
Then, after a little; "Now, Curtis, see those men over there in that room. They've travelled from all parts of the country to come here at my invitation, and I've got to make a little speech to them, and I'll do that while you go off to see the bear."
And then the hand came forth to say good-by. The boy put his in it, each looked into the other's face, and on neither was there a place big enough to put a ten-cent piece that was not wreathed in smiles. "He certainly is all right," said the boy to the father, looking wistfully after the President.
Almost to the other room had the President gone when he, too, instinctively looked back to find the boy following him with his eyes. He stopped, wheeled around, and then the two instinctively sought each other again. The President came back, the boy went forward. This time each held out both hands, and as each looked once more into the other's eyes a world of complete understanding was in both faces, and every looker-on smiled with them.
"Good-by, Curtis," came at last from the President.
"Good-by, Mr. President," came from the boy. Then, with another pump-handly shake and with a "Gee, but he's great, all right!" the boy went out to see the cinnamon-bear at the "Zoo," and to live it all over in the days to come.
Two boy-hearts had met, although one of them belonged to the President of the United States.