RECOLLECTIONS OF FULL YEARS
If no guests had, to my knowledge, been invited I would give instructions to have luncheon prepared for my family only, emergency provision being a thing understood. My day's plans would then be sent over to Mr. Young, the Executive Social Officer, who had his office in the Executive wing of the buliding, and I would go on about my accustomed duties and pleasures knowing that no surprise would find us quite surprised.
Along about eleven o'clock the house telephone would ring, or a note would be sent over, and announcement would be made that Mr. So and So would lunch with the President and Mrs. Taft. The table would be laid while the kitchen staff stood calmly by awaiting final orders. In another half hour might come the announcement of a second guest, or group of guests, whereupon the amiable butler would have to make a complete change in table arrangements. Only about a half hour before the stated luncheon hour did the cook even consider it saft to begin final preparations, but too often for the maintenance of entire smoothness in domestic routine Mr. Taft would come across from the Executive offices anywhere from a half hour to an hour late, bringing with him an extra guest, or even a number of extra guests whose coming had not been announced at all.
This system, or this lack of system, obtained throughout my four years in the White House, but I and my capable and willing staff, all of whom were devoted to the President, eventually adjusted ourselves to it and I began to take great delight in the informal meeting of so many interesting and distinguished men at our open luncheon table.
I tried to insist that the dinner hour should always be properly respected, and it usually was. While we gave many informal, small dinners,—nearly every night as a matter of fact,—there were crowded into my first season from March until I became ill in May most of the big official
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