AT the Bicentennial celebration of Yale University (founded in 1701) in October, Theodore Roosevelt, who had within a few weeks become President of the United States ( McKinley died 14 September) received an honorary degree and made a characteristic speech. In the afternoon he was like a caricature of himself; and yet evidently sincere. I was Head Usher and presented individually to him an interminable line of men. He was not allowed to shake hands with anyone, because McKinley had been shot while doing so; he held his hat in both hands and it was evident that he chafed under the enforced restraint. Whenever a famous athlete appeared in the line and I mentioned his name, the President would release one hand and grasp him around the neck and say 'It's a darned shame I can't shake hands with you, old man!'
Among the men of letters who received honorary degrees, Howells, Aldrich, etc., Mark Twain received the loudest and most prolonged applause.
One of the most picturesque figures was Archbishop Ireland; in his ecclesiastical robes, he attracted much attention.
While I was standing near President Hadley at the evening reception, a delegate from Sweden, covered with medals, was presented. He addressed Hadleyin Latin, making a fairly long speech. The moment he finished, Hadley replied in equally fluent Latin.
I first met Riley at Indianapolis in the late nineties; some