little ruth cleveland, when she was the baby of the white house, had no very exalted idea of her father’s great office.

saturday, the weather being balmy and springlike, one of the policemen who guard the private portion of the white house grounds took his little daughter with him to enjoy the pleasant surroundings. the little girl was not quite six years old. while the policeman was pointing out the beauty of the grounds to his little daughter, ruth and esther cleveland, under the escort of their respective nurses, left the mansion for a run.

ruth ran ahead of her nurse, and on discovering a girl of her own age surveyed her from head to foot. after looking the little girl over ruth straightened herself up and said:

“my papa is president; who is your papa?”

the policeman’s daughter replied: “my papa is a policeman.”

ruth glanced up at the burly form ornamented with bright brass buttons, and hanging her head in an abashed manner, said, “i wish my papa was a policeman.”

how often we think that the things we have not are better than the things we have!