8	The Woman with

and her own convictions were as
strong as her courage. But, in her
shock at seeing her one and only child
stricken so severely, her maternal de-
sire to protect him from all further
burdens overcame her for a period.

So, Mother and Louis Howe (Fa-
ther’s political and personal friend
since Father’s earliest days in the New
York State Senate) quickly and con-
sistently answered Father’s wishes
for a continuation of his associations
with people from all walks of life.
They brought people to him. And as
he became well enough to be up and
around, he would go to others.

In addition, Father spent many,
many hours reading and studying.
History as it affected governments
and politics was not his only great
interest. His stamp collection is, of
course, now famous. He never ceased
studying the dread disease which had
struck him and which, he was so soon
to learn, had struck other thousands
in this country whom he came to de-
scribe as “back parlor” cases. These
were the people told by doctors that
nothing could be done to help them;
and who didn’t have money to experi-
ment with special treatments, braces,
etc., and who, therefore, spent the bet-
ter part of their days sitting in the
“back parlor” of their homes.

Father also collected children’s
books, prints of early U. S. Navy bat-
tles and early American ships of all
kinds, historical data on old Dutch
homes and landmarks in Dutchess
County, New York. He carefully con-
tinued to collect choice first editions

Woman’s Digest	May

of books on subjects of particular in-
terest to him.

So I knew that the rumors I heard
were not true. And I had enough
perception to realize that actually my
father was growing in mental capac-
ity, as well as in character.	1

With all his suffering during that
first year, I remember only one time]
when he lost patience and was very
cross with me. This was one day in
his library in our Hyde Park house.
I was on a ladder moving some of
the books to make room for others.
Father was in his wheel chair giving
me directions. Suddenly an armful ol
books slipped from my grasp and
crashed to the floor. I saw Father
start, and an expression of pain passed
swiftly over his face. My apologies
were interrupted by his voice, very
sternly accusing me of being too care-
less for words and no help at all.

As a child I admired Father for sc
many things that I took his criticisrr
and his praise very much to heart
and if his criticism was severe I woulc
burst into tears. This time I felt sc
acutely ashamed of myself that i
would cheerfully have disappeared
into the floor if that would have un
done my carelessness. I had been so|
proud of being able to help him—
as I always had been if I felt he wa;
talking to me about something ]
thought of as important in the adult
world, and he was asking me to help
him with it.

On this occasion I fled from thl
room—in tears, of course. I fled tl
a room at the other end of the houscJ