The Old Lion: A Novel of Theodore Roosevelt

by Jeff Shaara

But I admit, I’m drawn to the notion of a life in politics. To perform a service that benefits the entire people…” The word seemed to surprise his mother. “Politics? Your father did great good for an enormous number of people with charity work, advancing the culture in less dreadful ways. He considered the professional politician to be a man with no other opportunities in his life except to defraud and scandalize the people who could be persuaded to give him their vote. They are scoundrels, all of them.

For some reason, a few of us thought he had a chance of winning the nomination, and maybe even the presidency. I’m still convinced he’d be a lot more effective leader than Blaine. But the convention had already been decided, long before we got there, long before anybody had a real chance to be heard. It’s like when you wade out into the edge of the ocean and try to stay upright against a big wave. Not likely. The wave broke over us.”

Roosevelt shrugged. “If politics is to be my lifeblood, I must do it on my own terms, and I will find a way to survive. If it is not in my future, well, I have my cattle. And a clear conscience.”

“You want to lead the dance, you have to step on some toes.

Write what people want to hear, especially about me. Reality can be ugly.

“I could fix this. I know damn well I could.” “Sir, you can’t. It’s a private matter. Government can’t become involved.” “I didn’t say government. I said me.”

He heard a commotion in the corridor outside, Loeb turning as well, a small creature scurrying past the open doorway. Loeb made a small sound, and Roosevelt waited for more, saw his son Archie running past in pursuit. With a hint of alarm, Loeb said, “Which one was that, sir?” “That was Archie, my second youngest.” “No, sir, the animal.” “Oh. That was Josiah, the badger. I call him Josh. You recall, he’s the gift I received on my trip through Kansas. He was but a pup then, but he’s grown into full-blown badgerhood. He can be a bit ornery too. Likes to nibble on legs.

Have you seen the one-legged rooster? Who ever thought a rooster would have a personality?