If she were not at home, Mama would see to it that a fresh white rose was there.
Sometimes, Mrs. Coolidge would close herself in the Green Suite on the second floor, and play the piano she had brought to the White House.
Mama knew she was playing her son's favorite pieces and feeling close to him, and did not disturb her.

All the rest of the days in the White House would be shadowed by the tragic loss, even though the President tried harder than ever to make his little dry jokes and to tease the people around him.

A little boy came to give the President his personal condolences, and the President gave word that any little boy who wanted to see him was to be shown in.
Backstairs, the maids cried a little over that, and the standing invitation was not mentioned to Mrs. Coolidge.

The President was even more generous with the First Lady than he had been before the tragedy.
He would bring her boxes of candy and other presents to coax a smile to her lips.

He brought her shawls.
Dresses were short in the days of Mrs. Coolidge, and Spanish shawls were thrown over them.
He got her dozens of them.
One shawl was so tremendous that she could not wear it, so she draped it over the banister on the second floor, and it hung over the stairway.
The President used to look at it with a ghost of a smile.

Mrs. Coolidge spent more time in her bedroom among her doll collection.
She kept the dolls on the Lincoln bed.
At night, when Mama would turn back the covers, she would have to take all the dolls off the bed and place them elsewhere for the night.
Mama always felt that the collection symbolized Mrs. Coolidge's wish for a little girl.

Among the dolls was one that meant very much to the First Lady, who would pick it up and look at it often.
It had a tiny envelope tied to its wrist.
An accompanying sympathetic letter explained that inside the envelope was a name for Mrs. Coolidge's first granddaughter.
Mama knew this doll was meant to help Mrs. Coolidge overcome her grief by turning her eyes to the future.
The name inside the envelope was "Cynthia".

The Coolidges' life, after the death of their son, was quieter than ever.
John was away at school most of the time.
Mrs. Coolidge would knit, and the President would sit reading, or playing with the many pets around them.

Now and then, the President would call for "Little Jack, Master of the Hounds", which was his nickname for a messenger who had worked in the White House since Teddy Roosevelt's administration, and discuss the welfare of some one of the animals.
It was part of Little Jack's work to look after the dogs.

One White House dog was immortalized in a painting.
That was Rob Roy, who posed with Mrs. Coolidge for the portrait by Howard Chandler Christy.
To get him to pose, Mrs. Coolidge would feed him candy, so he enjoyed the portrait sessions as well as she did.

I would like to straighten out a misconception about the dress Mrs. Coolidge is wearing in this painting.
It is not the same dress as the one on her manikin in the Smithsonian.
People think the dress in the picture was lengthened by an artist much later on.
This is not true.
The dress in the painting is a bright red, with rhinestones forming a spray on the right side.
There is a long train flowing from the shoulders.

Mrs. Coolidge gave Mama this dress for me, and I wore it many times.
I still have the dress, and I hope to give it to the Smithsonian Institution as a memento, or, as I more fondly hope, to present it to a museum containing articles showing the daily lives of the Presidents -- if I can get it organized.

But to get back to the Coolidge household, Mrs. Coolidge so obviously loved dogs, that the public sent her more dogs -- Calamity Jane, Timmy, and Blackberry.
The last two were a red and a black chow.
Rob Roy remained boss of all the dogs.
He showed them what to do, and taught them how to keep the maids around the White House in a state of terror.

The dogs would run through the halls after him like a burst of bullets, and all the maids would run for cover.
Mama didn't know what to do -- whether to tell on Rob Roy or not -- since she had the ear of Mrs. Coolidge more than the other maids.
But she was afraid the First Lady would not understand, because Rob Roy was a perfect angel with the First Family.

Every day, when the President took his nap, Rob Roy would stretch out on the window seat near him, like a perfect gentleman, and stare thoughtfully out the window, or he would take a little nap himself.
He would not make a sound until the President had wakened and left for the office;
then he would bark to let everyone know the coast was clear.
His signal was for the other dogs to come running, but it was also the signal for Mama and the other maids to watch out.

Rob Roy was self-appointed to accompany the President to his office every morning.
Rob Roy was well aware of the importance of this mission, and he would walk in front of the President, looking neither to the right nor to the left.

At dinner, lunch, or breakfast, the President would call out, "Supper"!
-- he called all meals supper -- after the butler had announced the meal.
All the dogs would dash to get on the elevator with the President and go to the dining room.
They would all lie around on the rug during the meal, a very pretty sight as Rob Roy, Prudence, and Calamity Jane were all snow-white.

When Prudence and Blackberry were too young to be trusted in the dining room, they were tied to the radiator with their leashes, and they would cry.
Mama tried to talk to them and keep them quiet while she tidied up the sitting room before the First Family returned.

Finally, Mama did mention to Mrs. Coolidge that she felt sorry for the little dogs, and then Mrs. Coolidge decided to leave the radio on for them while she was gone, even though her husband disapproved of the waste of electricity.

Mama was now the first maid to Mrs. Coolidge, because Catherine, the previous first maid, had become ill and died.
Mrs. Coolidge chose Mama in her place.
It was a high mark for Mama.

Every First Family seems to have one couple upon whom it relies for true friendship.
For the Coolidges, it was Mr. and Mrs. Frank W. Stearns of Boston, Massachusetts, owners of a large department store.
They seemed to be at the White House half the time.
The butlers were amused because when the Stearns were there, the President would say grace at breakfast.
If the Stearns were not there, grace would be omitted.

Speaking of breakfast, the President inaugurated a new custom -- that of conducting business at the breakfast table.
The word was that this too was part of an economy move on his part.
A new bill had been passed under Harding that designated the Government, rather than the President, as the tab-lifter for official meals.
So the President would make a hearty breakfast official by inviting Government officials to attend.

He caused a lot of talk when he also chose the breakfast hour to have the barber come in and trim his hair while he ate.
Mama said that if Presidents were supposed to be colorful, Mr. Coolidge certainly made a good president.
He knew exactly how to be colorful!

The favorite guest of the house, as far as the staff was concerned, was Mr. Wrigley, the chewing gum king.
The White House had chewing gum until it could chew no more, and every Christmas, Mr. Wrigley sent the President a check for $100, to be divided among all the help.
You can imagine that he got pretty good service.

Another good friend of the Coolidges' was George B. Harvey, who was the Ambassador to Great Britain from 1921 to 1923.
He had been a friend of the Hardings, and continued to be invited by the Coolidges.

The first royalty whom Mama ever waited on in the White House was Queen Marie of Rumania, who came to a State dinner given in her honor on October 21, 1926.
She was not an overnight guest in the White House, but Mr. Ike Hoover, the chief usher, had Mama check her fur coat when she came in, and take care of her needs.
Mama said she was one of the prettiest ladies she had ever seen.

Mama was very patriotic, and one of the duties she was proudest of was repairing the edges of the flag that flew above the White House.
Actually, two flags were used at the mansion -- a small one on rainy days, and a big one on bright days.
The wool would become frazzled around the edges from blowing in the wind, and Mama would mend it.
She would often go up on the roof to see the attendant take down the flag in the evening.
She used to tell me, "When I stand there and look at the flag blowing this way and that way, I have the wonderful, safe feeling that Americans are protected no matter which way the wind blows".

Even when Mrs. Coolidge was in mourning for her son, she reached out to help other people in trouble.
One person she helped was my brother.
Mama had told her how Emmett's lungs had been affected when he was gassed in the war.
He was in and out of Mount Alto Hospital for veterans any number of times.

Taking a personal interest, she had the doctor assigned to the White House, Dr. James Coupal, look Emmett over.
As a result, he was sent to a hospital in Arizona until his health improved enough for him to come back to Washington to work in the Government service.
But again, there was danger that his lungs would suffer in the muggy Washington weather, and he had to return to the dry climate of the West to live and work.

When Mrs. Coolidge was in mourning, she did not wear black.
She wore grey every day, and white every evening.
Mama knew that she was out of mourning when she finally wore bright colors.
The President helped her a lot by selecting some lovely colored dresses to get her started.
She opened the boxes with a tear in her eye and a sad smile on her face.

On the social side, the chore Mama had at the formal receptions at the White House thrilled her the most.
It was her job to stand at the foot of the stairs, and, just as the First Lady stepped off the last tread, Mama would straighten out her long train before she marched to the Blue Room to greet her guests with the President.
Mama would enjoy the sight of the famous guests as much as anyone, and would note a gown here and there to tell me about that night.

One night, Mama came home practically in a state of shock.
She had stood at the bottom of the stairs, as usual, when Mrs. Coolidge came down, in the same dress that is now in the Smithsonian, to greet her guests.
Mama stooped down to fix the train, but there was no train there!
She reached and reached around the dress, but there was nothing there.
She looked up and saw that, without knowing it, Mrs. Coolidge was holding it aloft.
Mrs. Coolidge looked down, saw Mama's horrified expression and quickly let the whole thing fall to the floor.
Mama swirled the train in place, and not a step was lost.

The Coolidges did not always live at the White House during the Presidency.