Boris cast an anxious eye out of the S Street window. It looked like rain. Boris is a Serbian who lost his last name in the war. He works as valet for a big, thickset, friendly-faced engineer whose friends and helpers all call him The Chief.
Today was to be The Chief's big day. As Boris helped The Chief into a pair of grey pin-striped trousers and a formal morning coat, he felt like giving little adjusting pats on the broad shoulders.
The Chief went downstairs to breakfast alone. The rest of the family was late. Afterwards Mr. Justice Stone dropped in for a chat. A truck came up with two sacks of mail—presents for The Chief, which were not opened.
After giving The Chief's silk hat (which The Chief detests) a final swirl, Boris, with others, got into an automobile and was driven off through crowded streets to the Capitol: a monstrous building with a domed centre, .the like of which you never see in the Balkans. A nipping wind blew up from the Potomac. The clouds were growing thicker. Boris was distressed.
Boris didn't see the arrival of two top-hatted gentlemen with whom The Chief and his wife motored two miles to the White House, where Calvin Coolidge stood in the Blue Room to greet them. Outside, two dozen motor cars were in line. Mr. Coolidge and The Chief went out and got into the first car, their ladies following in the next one. The chauffeur of the No. 1 car stepped on the self-starter. Wheels within groaned loudly but the motor would not start. The chauffeur gasped at himself and the motor. The Chief looked worried. Cameramen pressed in closer. Finally the engine spat, caught, hummed properly and the open car rolled down the gravel drive and out upon Pennsylvania Avenue. Calvin Coolidge did not look back at the White House. Mrs. Coolidge paused to say goodbye to policeman at the gate.
Rolling around the Treasury behind an escort of cavalry, Mr. Coolidge and The Chief heard the throat-rasping cheers of early-comers in the stands along the route to the Capitol. The Coolidge silk hat moved up and down in frequent response to this acclamation. The Chief's headpiece moved less frequently. One irreverent youth screamed "Oh you Herbie!" from the sidewalk.
Boris, already at the Capitol, knew when The Chief arrived by the yell that arose from the plaza. Mr. Coolidge went up the broad steps of the Senate wing at a quick, almost jaunty, pace. The Chief was slower, measured his stride more carefully. Once inside Mr. Coolidge walked around to the President's room, just off the Senate lobby, put his silk hat down on the green felt table top, sat down in an arm chair, signed many bills. His Cabinet stood about him, eager to be of last-minute assistance. When he had finished he motioned shut the ponderous doors and lighted a cigar.
The Chief, head lowered, was taken to the Military Affairs Committee Room where he stood first on one foot, then on the other, smiled and listened while many people he didn't know told him how happy they were on his Big Day.