New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1916-10-29
The mistaken Hand

shake hands with the President Of the
United States. Philemon was a young
man of simple tastes who lived in country
town long way from everywhere, and par
ticularly from Washington, D. c.
He had read Of the White House and how
the Chief Executive Of the American people
was always willing TO meet and greet his con-
stituents when they came to pay their respects,
thing for President to do. Oftentimes Phile-
mon would hold out his right hand, hard and
calloused from work on the farm, and wonder
whether at some time in the rosy future 1t
would move up and down in the Washington
atmosphere close coupled with that Of Presi-
dents. At such times Philemons heart would
sink within him because Tankport- his home
town, and Washington, D. c., were separated by
about 800 miles Of railroad track.
His desire TO shake hands with a real Presi-
dent stuck by him through the years, and nat
urally, when an old uncle died and left him a
stocking full of coins dating back into the last
century, Philemons first thought was Of Wash
ington. He bought him q new suit Of clothes
at the Bee Hive on Main Street, and 70 the ac-
compartment Of envious sdieus left Tankport
one evening IS q passenger on the 5:22.
"At last" sighed Philemon, my wish is TO
be realized. I am on my way TO shake hands
with the President Of the United States"
Phienun's ticket entitled him to a stop-over
of almost forty-eight hours at the nations
capital. time enough to see the Congressional
Library, Congress, the Smithsonian Institution
and other Washington wonders, but the pros
pect Of seeing these did not huster him bit.
He had but one ambition: the ambition Of his
childhood He wished only to walk into the
White House grounds and up the steps and into
the presence Of him whom the Indians called
the Great Father. Then, as the Chief Execu-
tive Of ninety millions Of people shook his
Philemon s-humble hand Philemon would in
wardly swell with pride as ne thought Of what
he would have to tell his childrens children.
As he approached the goal Of his dreams ne
trembled with anticipation, and when the train
came TO a final halt in the station with the
vauted roof Philemon walked out into Wash
ington as into rosy mist.
1t was early in the morning, but Philenoa
couldn't wait He knew, he had read, that the
best time to see President was on public re.
ception day, and he wasn't sure whether this
was such day or not, but he thought perhaps
that, seeing his eagerness, the White House at
tendants would pass him in, anyway. 1t would
take but a minute of the Presidents time TO
shake hands with him. And what a glorious
minute that would be!
Philemon busted of his shoes with pocket
handkerchief. and walked into the White House
grounds. He walked as one in blissful,
ecstatic dream, dream that would shortly
turn out 10 be true. He hesitated with
strangers hesitation, at the public entrance 70
the Executive Mansion, and a courteous at
.endant came toward him with an inquiring air.
SnOutu IKE W. onohc hoi-0 "AeAA NAS
President" said Philemon, in rather q faint
voice. May see him."
The White House attendant smiled indul-
gently.
II am afraid it would be difficult TO arrange
it." he remarked, pleasantly. "The President
isn't in Washington, just now. You know he
is on a speaking tour of the Middle West Have
you come far to see him.
Philemon's heart became stone.
From Tankport, Illitucky," he replied In
hollow tones; fifteen hundred miles
From Tankport" queried the attendant
"Why, what a coincidence! The Presidents
train stopped there yesterday, and ne made
ten-minute speech The stop is mentioned in
this mornings paper
With leaden feet Philemon left the White
House grounds and bought him paper at the
first newsstand he saw. Sure enough, there 1t
was; under an Ilitucky date line:
During the day the President made brief
speeches to the people of North Middlebury,
Cow Plains, Hoopleville, Dingle and Tankpoft-
He spoke in every instance from the back plat
form Of the train, and good humoredly shook
the hands Of the country folk who crowded
around him."
Philemon didn't read any more. He spent
the day in the Congressional Library, meditat-
ing upon the advisability Of leaping from the
u l.