Democratic Sentinel, Volume 19, Number 39, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 October 1895 — CLEVELAND AT HOME. [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

CLEVELAND AT HOME.

HOW THE PRESIDENT LIVES AT GRAY GABLES. The Sommer San Tans His Ski* sad the Whispering Wind* Smooth the Uac* of Care from Hie Pace —Ho—b ■ hold of the Nation’s Chief Execstive. One Week with Grover. A week passed with President Cleveland at Gray Gables is an event which comes not often into the life of the

average man. Ido not know which Ip r ospect remains *most vividly I n memory after suck an experience— the sight of the relief and happiness of the ruler of over 6 0,000,000 people divested of business cares that at Washington place him under almost constant microscopical inspection, or the beauties and pleasures of the rare ideal solitude

amid which the President and his family spend a vacation time that la quaint, restful and thoroughly enjoyable. When Mr. Cleveland purchased Gray

Gables—a lovely, many-windowed borne far out on a point that juts into the pulsing, shifting, mysterious waters of Buzzard's Bay—he evidently "had in view the desire to thoroughly Isolate himself when the opportunities came to temporarily drop the stately garb of his great office. It la as hard a spot tt> reach, in a measure, as if it were sitrated in the heart of darkest Africa, for it requires the patience of Job and the philosophy of Carlyle to get to it by rail. Every twenty miles on the way to Buzzard’s Bay you hare to change trains, and Buzzard’s Bay is but the threshold to Gray Gables. If you go by an ocean route, there is still an eight miles drive to Monument Beach, unless you take a semi-occasion-al train. The railroad company has built a tiny pagoda-like station at the entrance to the land that surrounds the President’s summer home, and has placed upon a sign the words, “Gray j Gables,” painted in strong white.

Around the station there la almost complete solitude, the spot being covered with dense trees, and a tangle of heavy underbrush. A roadof ocean sheila and aand winds like a big snake np to the 260 acres which surround &ray Gables. This land runs out into a little cape, which is bluff-like in its formation, and at Its summit are two sixfoot towers, on top of which are massive bowlders, marking the entrance to fifteen cleared acres. For a hundred feet beyond these, the underbrush has been cleared. The Cleveland fatnly call this spot “The Grove,” and It is provided with board seats, and has many quiet little nooks, where Mrs. Cleveland and her three children, Ruth, Esther and Marion, spend their leisure, in close proximity to a small park supplied with deer. Beyond is a pretty

Queen Anne structure, two stories in height. This is “The Lodge,” and really marks the habitable portion of Gray Gables. It has greenish inner Minds

and lace curtains, is plainly fitted up with white wicker work furniture, and is used exclusively as a sleeping Mace for the servants. Beyond It lie the stables, and then, at the extreme end of the turf-covered land, which rolls in miniature hills and valleys, stands the bouse of Gray Gables Itself

—the wmammr Mac of Clfevelattd, the private «Mhl It fciiitshsitw nsme from its numherisai Mile gables, peaks and dormer vMms. Tines shadow its fifteen

rooms, the- salt-freighted winds have changed the paint to a mellow moth color. There te a wide veranda all aroand the house, and from the heavy ptete-gteos wtedhws can be seen in all dfreethaaiha bright waters of the Very. The Pieridaai loves Sowers, and directly ta frsot of the house is a neat but set nnttatnUoue Moral display—geranitnaa, s—ripsMa, ferns, mountain dais-

ies. pansies, bachelors’ buttons, fouro'eleekß. and a big slump of sunflowers. The mate doorway Is reached by a wide Sight of steps, from which a path leads to a wooden dock terminating In a heating platform, directly at the ocean’s edge. One hundred feet out, moored to stakes, Is Mr. Cleveland's steam attract) and the sailing boat which he neee te hte fishing trips. The retteae of servants is a comparatively Mmflcd one. There are two nurses ter Hte children, a butler, a laundramt two maids, a coachman, a

steward, two men engaged about the grounds, and the caretaker. Bud Wright, who is a genuine down-East Yankee; with a keen sense of humor that has helped to give publicity to Cleveland's one and only joke. This has a twang of local color, but will bear repeating. It seems that near Gray Gables, an the Old Colouy Railroad, is is a tiny Sttie Tillage called Wareham. It la pronounced Ware'am by every'body In Massachusetts. Just as a train waa once rattling up to the station an ancient piaster of Cape Cod was examining the contents of a package which an extremely pretty young Boston girl had left accidentally in the seat beside the spinster when she left the train at Onset Beach. The csndentß at the package happened to he the latest thing in blooomera. Just as the spinster was examining thehUxwners, with a face of horror, the train stepped at the station. “Ware’esn!" shouted a brakeman. “Shan't do It,” yelled the spinster,

who lad sßHMwed the brakeman had addressed the remark to her. When Bad Wright told this story to Mr. Clrnhil it was greeted with great laughter, and since then the President baa worked it off on the various member* a t the cabinet, who have visited Mas twbfte vacation.

So far as the President is concerned, life at Gray. Gablee may be summed up in a word—fish. He is “fish crazy,” for, as the earth revolves around the sun, so everything at Gray Gables revolves around Mr. Cleveland's fishing trips, morning, noon and night Hu even fishes in bis sleep, bis familiars say! He awakes at about six o’clock in the morning, shaves himself, gets a lonely breakfast, and then puts off for his cat-boat The President loses much of that Rravity that marks his public life, once afloat and is a bright companion in a Jolly good fellowship. The Ruth has a half-deck and a tiny little cabin, and while Cleveland steers, his constant companion, Wright, manages the sail. Mr. Cleveland is looking thinner, but more healthy that) he has for years. He wears a careless fishing garb, outing shirt and all, and a hat stained yellow by the sea water, kinked up behind, crushed up before, and thoroughly disreputable—such a hat as a bank robber might adopt He has a fine collection of rods, and dotes on bluefish, always taking a lunch aboard cf sandwiches, pickles, cake and water. He is an angler of the most persistent class, remaining out way Into the afternoon at times, a flag hoisted on a high staff at the house telling when he Is afloat The cat-boat goes eight miles to find the President’s favorite fishing spot Broiled fish is a popular dish at Gray Gables: When he is not fishthg, the President enjoys a drive to a trout stream seven miles distant, or one to the postofflee, behind his team of three-year-old beauties. Mrs. Cleveland accompanies him in his trip after the voluminous mall bag, always ready for him, as does she and the children meet him at the dock on his return from a fishing excursion. On such occasions she wears a plain, neat skirt of covert cloth, and a silk waist. When they return the children are taken to feed the buck and roe, or allowed to hunt for blackberries, or showingoff their knowledge of German, in which Ruth is quite an expert They look over the cows and the vegetable garden, or hail the only arrival that breaks the monotony—the advent of the meat wagon from a neighboring town.

The President likes to be treated as a private citizen, and used to make occasional calls in the vicinity with Mrs. Cleveland, who followed up golf as an amusement last year. This vacation, however, they are more retired. Mr. Cleveland does his own writing nights, although Secretary Thurber Is within an hour's call. Secret service guards see that uo oue enters the grounds, unless through an appointment by telephone. It is said that a prominent Minister Plenipotentiary and a Georgia Senator of large repute were both turned down for venturing to intrude at Gray Gables unannounced. They did not even get a ride on the handsome 51.500 steam launch in which Mrs. Cleveland and the children take occasional trips around the bay. It Is a pretty domestic picture that is presented at Gray Gables when night falls. Mrs. Perrine, Mrs. Cleveland’s mother, is the only stranger to the direct family circle, and they all gather

in the main drawing-room, prettily fitted with blue, and with white wicker furniture, a big oak table and an oldfashioned fire place. The rugs are plain, the walls have a few neat etchings, but there are books, newspapers, magazines, and the children put in a happy gloaming and chatter and play until 9 o’clock. On Sundays a general rest is ordered, the children only going to church with their n rses. Except that the place is under the general surveillance of a curious and interested public and guarded by careful, trustworthy detectives, it might be the summer nest of any private citizen, ordinary, unostentatious, arranged only for restful and harmonious comfort.

SECRET SERVICE GUARD.

THE CLEVELAND FAMILY BUTCHER

RECEIVING HIS MAIL AT THE VILLAGE POSTOFFICE.

HIS FAVORITE JERSEY COW.

MR. CLEVELAND AS PILOT IN HIS NEW LAUNCH.

MET BY MRS. CLEVELAND AFTER A FISHING TRIP.