fact, I was enforcing honestly a law that had hitherto been
enforced dishonestly." [Footnote: "Autobiography," p. 210.]

In the end, those who wished to drink on Sundays found a way to do
it, and the law intended to regulate drinking habits failed, as
such laws nearly always have done. A judge decided that as drink
could be served with meals, a man need only eat one sandwich or a
pretzel and he could then drink seventeen beers, or as many as he
liked. But the result of Roosevelt's action had nearly stopped
bribe-giving to the police. So there was something gained.

Roosevelt went about the city at night, sometimes alone, sometimes
with his friend Jacob Riis, a reporter who knew about police work
and the slum districts of the city. If he caught policemen off
their beat, they were ordered to report at his office in the
morning and explain. When his friends were dancing at fashionable
balls, he was apt to be looking after the police outside.

From about this time, Roosevelt began to be known all over the
United States. He had been heard of ever since he was in the
Assembly, but only by those who follow politics closely. Now, New
York newspapers, with their cartoons, began to make him celebrated
everywhere. The fact that when he spoke emphatically, he showed
his teeth for an instant, was enlarged upon in pictures and in
newspaper articles, and it became connected with him henceforth.

We demand amusing newspapers; we like the fun in every subject
brought out as no other nation does. And we get it. Our newspapers
are by far the brightest and most readable in the world. But we
have to pay for it, and we often pay by having the real truth