Mr. Carpenter, the artist, relates the following incident: “Some
photographers came up to the White House to make some stereoscopic
studies for me of the President’s office. They requested a dark closet
in which to develop the pictures, and, without a thought that I was
infringing upon anybody’s rights, I took them to an unoccupied room of
which little ‘Tad’ had taken possession a few days before, and, with
the aid of a couple of servants, had fitted up a miniature theater, with
stage, curtains, orchestra, stalls, parquette and all. Knowing that the
use required would interfere with none of his arrangements, I led the
way to this apartment.
“Everything went on well, and one or two pictures had been taken, when
suddenly there was an uproar. The operator came back to the office and
said that ‘Tad’ had taken great offense at the occupation of his room
without his consent, and had locked the door, refusing all admission.
“The chemicals had been taken inside, and there was no way of getting at
them, he having carried off the key. In the midst of this conversation
‘Tad’ burst in, in a fearful passion. He laid all the blame upon
me--said that I had no right to use his room, and the men should not go
in even to get their things. He had locked the door and they should not
go there again--‘they had no business in his room!’
“Mr. Lincoln was sitting for a photograph, and was still in the chair.
He said, very mildly, ‘Tad, go and unlock the door.’ Tad went off
muttering into his mother’s room, refusing to obey. I followed him into
the passage, but no coaxing would pacify him. Upon my return to the
President, I found him still patiently in the chair, from which he had
not risen. He said: ‘Has not the boy opened the door?’ I replied that we
could do nothing with him--he had gone off in a great pet. Mr. Lincoln’s
lips came together firmly, and then, suddenly rising, he strode across
the passage with the air of one bent on punishment, and disappeared
in the domestic apartments. Directly he returned with the key to the
theater, which he unlocked himself.
“‘Tad,’ said he, half apologetically, ‘is a peculiar child. He was
violently excited when I went to him. I said, “Tad, do you know that you
are making your father a great deal of trouble?” He burst into tears,
instantly giving me up the key.’”