We are now speeding northward over Dakota prairies. On every hand the
level brown prairie stretches away to the horizon. The groups of farm
buildings are from one half to a mile apart and look as lonely as ships
at sea. Spots and streaks of snow here and there, fallen this morning.
A few small tree plantations, but no green thing; farmers plowing and
sowing wheat; straw stacks far and near; miles of corn stubble, now
and then a lone school house; the roads a black line fading away in the
distance, the little villages shabby and ugly. When the train stops
for water a crowd of men, women, and children make a rush for the
President's car. He either speaks to them a few minutes or else gets off
and shakes hands with them. He slights no one. He is a true democrat. He
makes about a dozen speeches per day, many of them in the open air. As
his friend and guest I am kept near him. At the banquets I sit at his
table; on the platforms I sit but a few feet away, in the drives I am
in the fourth carriage. If I hang back he sends for me and some nights
comes to my room to see how I have stood the day. In St. Paul and
Minneapolis there were fifty thousand people on the sidewalks. As we
drove slowly along through the solid walls of human beings I saw a big
banner borne by some school girls with my name upon it. As my carriage
came up the girls pushed through the crowd and hurriedly handed me a big
bouquet of flowers. The President saw it and was much pleased.... Other
things like that have happened, so you can see your dad is honored in
strange lands--more than he is at home.... I see prairie chickens as
we speed along, and a few ducks and one flock of geese.... It is near
sundown now and I see only a level sea of brown grass with a building
here and there on the rim of the horizon.... We are well fed and I have
to look out or I eat too much. You can see that the world is round up
here. Your affectionate father,