Evening star., 1932-04-24
''After Hours" With the President
CORDIAL ATMOSPHERE OF HOOVER HOME is DEPICTED
BY WILL IRWIN.

QeIS 10 the SeCluQeO rear QOOrS OF
that distinguished old mansion.
He makes his exit and entrance with
out ceremony, except that the police
men on guard jerk to sudden salute
He is in his middle years. the hair white
on his temples His figure is neither
spare nor portly, though perhaps it
tends to the latter. But the portliness
is hard, athletic.
Under a hat pushed down to his eyes
looks out face which is rather baf-
fling. Perhaps the first glance would
register This is man of affairs" ="
Perhaps the second would add This
is a man who thinks" Nothing more
at the moment probably, for just now
the face is blank with WearineSS.
"a Tired Walk"
Though the pace at which this man
thrusts forward feet somewhat small
for his bulk is habitually brisk, 1t Is
nevertheless a tired walk at this mo-
ment. He has been through what any
typical American business man would
call "helluvaday"
All his days are hells of days in this
crisis. At least 20 visitors, besides re
spects callers" each expecting an i'm
mediate solution for problems which
hOulQ UdlllS d lleJlIIle VI SJuuys
Long distance telephone talks, equally
momentous and important, with Cali
fornia, Chicago, New Orleans, even
Europe. Vital reports to skim and dl-
gest. Meetings with cabinet officers,
Senators, Congressman. Ten or IS min
ute intervals with the next speech or
message. Dashes to the lawn to be
photographed with delegations. AS
the man passes into the elevator he
usually gives a long sigh.
Some IA hours later-generaUy at
about half past 8-President Hoover
emergeS from that curved course OF
Georgian pillars which give such dis
tinction to the rear of the White House.
He is a different man. The unin-
structed stranger meeting him, would
probably see now the power behind the
lines of his face and the Intellectual
vigor behind his hazel eyes His skin,
gray when he left his Office, seems now
to glow with health
He usually is not alone this time.
Mrs. Hoover may be with him, her arm
tucked into his. They are strolling,
stopping to greet the dogs or to COM
ment on the state of the vegetation on
those White House grounds in which
they take such pride.
But slow as the pace Is, the Presi-
dent steps vigorously now. Perhaps
Mrs. Herbert Hoover, II, is visiting.
together with little Peter and the
sprightly Peggy-Ann. Then, likely as
not. Mr.. Hoover goes to his work half
stopped to accommodate the stature of
these two babies.
Sometimes, when the pressure of the
coming day is not so great as usual, he
stops to watch the children through the
pf oixri,,cr toair
breakfast high spot in the day of
Peter and Peggy-Ann.
Back to the Mines"
Or the Presidents companion may
be some familiar house guest who goes
into the office with him for five minutes
of talk before Mr.. Hoover, remarking,
back to the mines" pushes the but
ton to summon that secretary who will
start the wheels of his crowded day.
The President has rebounded. He
is a new man. And he owes this not
only to his own extraordinary talent
for relaxation, but to the common sense
with which he and Mrs. Hoover have
ordered their lives in the White House.
The Hoovers have in their time oc-
cupied homes in such widely separated
spots as Palo Alto, San Francisco. Man
dalay, Melbourne and Washington.
Where Others planning six months
stay would live in hotel. they in
Variably have settled themselves into
house Of their own. And these homes
always have had the same atmosphere
which now pervades the upper floors
of the White House-quiet without for
mality, ease without disorder, many
interesting guests, much good talk,
goodwill and good laughter.
l. who have wandered widely and
tasted many pleasures, can say honestly
that I have had no better time in
my life than in some of these Hoover
homes. The White House is necessarily
trifle more formal, but the HooverS
have learned the art of making you
forget the little touches of ceremony,
such as rising when the President
enters.
The Presidents Day at Home.
Typically, the Presidents day at
home runs about as follows:
He Is up shortly after g. He was
always an early riser; six hours of
sleep are about his ration. Usually at
this hour, although sometimes in the
late afternoon, Joel Boone of the Navy
Medical Corps looks him over. The
President must be fit; Capt Boone'S
job is not only to cure him of any
illness, but to detect the first incipient
sign of trouble.
Then Mr.. Hoover puts on an old pair
OF flannel trousers, a nondeScript
sweater and a venerable hat and trots
out to the White House lawn, where
a group of familiars Secretary Wilbur,
Justice Stone and the Attorney Cen
eral, for eXample-are waiting for him.
l shall not redescribe that curious
game by which the President. under
the watchful eye of Capt Boone. keeps
fit. 1t is combination of volley ball
and lawn tennis, played with an eight
pound medicine ball and is at least as
strenuous as boxing. The President
plays it with energy and enthusiasm.
and has a powerful Wallop when he
VolleyS at the net.
half an hour of this, and the party
some days as many as a dozen-go
into the White House wet with per-
spiration, for a short after session with
morning coffee and toast The news
papers arrive now. The President gives
them a few glances. perhaps comments
on an item or so which is up his allev,
and drops them for general talk-light
and inconSequential.
Some one tells the latest current
story, some one else takes up where he
left it off-a chronicle of harmless
Washington gossip. The President has
a great curiosity about life; he likes
talk of people. This familiar group has
been playing together almost daily
nearly three years. Inevitably stock
Jokes have sprung up among them
Wilbur breaks in with that homely
Western wit of his. Stone with his
quieter humor, the President with little
subtle thrusts.
Then an attendant suddenly reminds
him of the hour. He rises abruptly,
hurries upstairs, shaveS himself, and
passes on the ministrations of Boris
Kosta Back in peace conference days
Mr.. Hoover applied to the United
States Army for semi disabled Amer