ciation. There he met a young Jew, named Raphael, who had recently
displayed unusual courage and physical prowess in rescuing women and
children from a burning building. Roosevelt suggested that he try
the examination for entrance to the force. Young Raphael did so, was
successful, and became a policeman of the best type. He and his family,
said Roosevelt, "have been close friends of mine ever since." Another
comment which he added is delicious and illuminating: "To show our
community of feeling and our grasp of the facts of life, I may mention
that we were almost the only men in the Police Department who picked
Fitzsimmons as a winner against Corbett." There is doubtless much in
this little incident shocking to the susceptibilities of many who would
consider themselves among the "best" people. But Roosevelt would care
little for that. He was a real democrat; and to his great soul there was
nothing either incongruous or undesirable in having--and in admitting
that he had--close friends in an East Side Jewish family just over from
Russia. He believed, too, in "the strenuous life," in boxing and in
prize fighting when it was clean. He could meet a subordinate as man to
man on the basis of such a personal matter as their respective judgment
of two prize fighters, without relaxing in the slightest degree their
official relations. He was a man of realities, who knew how to preserve
the real distinctions of life without insisting on the artificial ones.

One of the best allies that Roosevelt had was Jacob A. Riis, that
extraordinary man with the heart of a child, the courage of a lion, and
the spirit of a crusader, who came from Denmark as an immigrant, tramped
the streets of New York and the country roads without a place to lay his
head, became one of the best police reporters New York ever knew,
and grew to be a flaming force for righteousness in the city of his
adoption. His book, "How the Other Half Lives", did more to clean up
the worst slums of the city than any other single thing. When the book
appeared, Roosevelt went to Mr. Riis's office, found him out, and left
a card which said simply, "I have read your book. I have come down
to help." When Roosevelt became Police Commissioner, Riis was in the
Tribune Police Bureau in Mulberry Street, opposite Police Headquarters,
already a well valued friend. Roosevelt took him for guide, and together
they tramped about the dark spots of the city in the night hours when
the underwo