Talbotton, the first American home of my family, also extended an invitation to us, which I accepted with pleasure. A dinner and reception were given in my honor at the public hall known as the Opera House, at which the Mayor of the town made an address, as well as several other prominent citizens. While in Talbotton we were the guests of the Honorable Henry Persons, former member of Congress and an old friend of our family. He gave me my first rubber ball, when I was six years old. I visited all the scenes of my boyhood; it was forty-five years since I had lived there. The population of the town was about the same, equally divided between the whites and the blacks. The little Baptist church where I went to Sunday school was much smaller than it had loomed up in my imagination. Collinsworth Institute was abandoned, and only the recitation hall was left standing. The several houses wherein my family had lived brought back vivid memories of the toils and pleasures of my parents. The little frame cottage with the green blinds especially impressed upon me how little is required for happiness where there is the love and contentment which always blessed our family. All who remembered my father and mother spoke of them in the highest terms. I met a number of my boyhood friends, grown gray and old. On the whole the little town had not changed much, though it had fewer signs of prosperity. Before the Civil War it was the center of a rich slave-holding county. The people, however, seemed contented and happy.
From Talbotton we went to Atlanta, and then made one or two more stops on the way home. At each place we met friends of former years and were given a thoroughly royal welcome. In fact, the reception given us throughout the whole tour was in the nature of an ovation. Wherever we stopped our rooms were decorated with an abundance of the most beautiful flowers. The Southerners have ever been known for their hospitality, and in this respect the New South has lost nothing.
Later in the year the Southern Commercial Congress, representing ten States, assembled in Washington, and I was asked to preside at the opening session in the large ballroom of the New Willard Hotel. There were three or four hundred people present. I devoted my address to a comparison between the old agricultural South and the new industrial South, pointing out that as the economic interests of the South were no longer sectional but national, it must follow that politically there is no longer a reason for "the solid South."
On leaving the Cabinet one day at about this time the President's youngest son, Quentin, came up to me. I had a great affection for this bright, attractive boy. He was eleven years old, and he informed me he weighed one hundred and fourteen pounds. He was full of animal spirits, frank, charming. "You gave my brother Kermit some coins," he said to me.
"Yes; are you interested in them?" I asked.
"I am making a little collection," was his answer.
I invited him into my carriage and to come to lunch with me. He accepted readily, and I reminded him that he had better let his mother know. He did so by hurriedly running into the White House and returning in a very few minutes saying his mother said he might go. He behaved like a perfect little gentleman and showed that under his sparkling vivacity there was serious, intelligent hunger for knowledge. After lunch I took him into my library and showed him my collection of Greek and Roman coins. I told him he might pick out what he liked. To the several he chose I added a gold stater of Philip. He was overjoyed. From that time onward we became still greater friends, and he came to see me whenever he got a new coin for his collection.
In 1909, when I was going through Paris, I met him there with his mother. During this visit he and I were quite steadily together. We visited the museums and other places of interest. I found him a most sympathetic and delightful companion, notwithstanding the immense difference in our ages. What a record of glory and patriotism this lovable boy has left to his country! And with what fortitude his parents bore their most painful loss! Their example strengthened the anguished hearts of many patriotic fathers and mothers of the land who suffered like affliction.