During the second term I saw little of the President. I was very much tied to business and went to Washington only when summoned there to discuss a few international questions as they arose. But while I am reminiscing about my relations with Mr. Cleveland, I shall jump ahead about ten years and speak of a visit he paid me for three days during March, 1903. He was to deliver an address at the Henry Ward Beecher Memorial in the Brooklyn Academy of Music on Sunday evening, and he arrived from Princeton on Saturday. He was like a boy out of school.
We were going to the theater on Saturday evening and I suggested Justin McCarthy's "If I Were King," played by Sothern.
"I hope it is not sad," Cleveland said. "I want to see it from start to finish"; and with a smirk he added, "for I am a hayseed." I discerned afterward that he would rather have seen a comedy or vaudeville.
When we arrived at the theater, many in the audience recognized Cleveland and heads were constantly turning in the direction of our box. I mentioned it to him, but he said: "Oh, no, they don't know me any more." After the theater we had a supper of delicatessen and beer at home, which I knew he would like, and he amused us with several funny stories and mimicry. My wife remarked that he might have made a success on the stage, and he replied that his friend Joe Jefferson had often deplored his having missed that profession.
Cleveland gave an imitation of the humorous Congressman Campbell, of New York, who used to come to the White House and, pointing to the room occupied by Cleveland, ask the clerk: "Is His Royal Nibs in?" And sometimes Tim Campbell made requests that Cleveland had to deny as unconstitutional; then Tim would come back with "Oh, I wouldn't let the Constitution stand between friends!"
At dinner on Sunday we were joined by Mr. and Mrs. John G. Carlisle, my brother Isidor, his wife, and his business associate, Charles B. Webster. Carlisle had been one of the most distinguished Senators in Congress, former Secretary of the Treasury, and a close friend of Cleveland. When the champagne was served my wife said to the ex-President:
"Does Mrs. Cleveland let you drink this? You know it is bad for your rheumatism!"
"No, but I won't tell her," answered Cleveland.
They compromised on one glass.