"'What about doctor's bills?' he asked. 'You didn't mention that item in estimating the expense of living.'
"I told him of a curious custom we used to have. In each samurai class there were families of doctors who were endowed by the Government, the profession being passed down from father to son. These doctors took care of samurai families of the rank corresponding to their own, and charged nothing for so doing. Twice a year, in January and July, when it is customary to give presents, presents were given to the doctors. They also took care of the poor as a matter of charity.
"That interested him, too. He was always intensely interested in the samurai, because our samurai virtues were virtues of a kind he particularly admired—courage, stoicism, love of duty and of country.
"We sat on the wide verandah, overlooking the lawn sloping down toward Long Island Sound. Mrs. Roosevelt sat with us, knitting. It was July, but she was knitting mittens. Presently a maid came and spoke to her, and she left us.
"When she came back she said to me, 'Baron, I want to ask a favour of you. Quentin has been crying. He took great pains to clean his pony to-day, to show it to you, and we promised that he should be allowed to do so. He has been riding around the lawn hoping you would notice him.'
"Of course I sent for Quentin, and he appeared proudly upon his pony. I asked him to ride around the lawn, which he did.
"'You ride splendidly!' I said, when he drew up again before the porch.
"'Do you think so?' he asked, evidently much pleased.
"'Indeed I do!' I said, and asked him to go around the lawn again.
"When he came back I told him about my son, who was just his age. 'I shall have him learn to ride,' I said, 'and when he can ride as well as you can I shall have his picture taken on a pony and send it to you.'