Reunited

When with a ringing of bells, a great steel worm of a train slid into the Union Station at Washington, and Mr. and Mrs. Calvin Coolidge descended the car steps to the porter's rubber cushioned stool, there were three smiling faces looking up at them from the platform. There was the chubby face of the Secretary of Commerce; there was the long, lean face of the Secretary of Agriculture smiling from beneath its domed forehead; and there were the stone-chiseled features of the Secretary of State. He too smiled as he waited there, his head thrust forward over his little dark-suited body, his gray fedora held in one hand and his cane hooked over his arm.

The official family had sent a delegation to welcome back their pater familias patriae. Next day found the family reassembled--all except the substantial Secretary of War who still was ill at his summer home in New Hampshire. The hulking Attorney General strolled grinning into the White House office building, the heavy treading Secretary of Interior, the tired Secretary of the Treasury, the stocky Secretary of Labor, the firm-set Postmaster General, the rather unwieldy Secretary of the Navy, the youthful Acting Secretary of War and the three who had welcomed the. incoming train, Mr. Hoover, Mr. Jardine and Mr. Kellogg (clad, this time, in a white palm beach suit and carrying a straw hat).

All went in to sit around the great table in the Cabinet room. What passed there in the bosom of the happy family is not of public record. But the President's "spokesmen" vouched that it was not of great moment--rather a general accounting of the ten sons' stewardship to their father.

But, after all, it must have seemed to them like old times.