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THROUGH SEVEN YEARS OF THE CRUELEST JOB IN THE WORLD President Roosevelt has kept his ebullient gaiety, an excellent digestion, and the ability to sleep like a child. His physical record is amazing in the light of rumors that persisted even in 1932 after he had served four years as governor of New York and had plunged into a furious national campaign. He had no physical stamina, the whisper went; he was a weakling because of the infantile paralysis that had crippled him. Two weeks would cover the time he has spent in bed, and then only with minor ailments, a touch of grippe or flare-up of the frontal sinus. Zest for living is one of his most conspicuous characteristics, and he has enjoyed to the full a job that ruined and broke so many other men.

And this in a period when one crisis has followed another at home and abroad, and turbulent quarrels have raged around the President. He has worked long days and often far into the night with little peace.

All of which may help to explain why he has flourished. He rises to an emergency as a trout to the fly. It is a test of his powers that he has never failed to welcome. Again and again that is the picture that emerges from his years in the White House. A torrential flood is raging down the Ohio. Lights are burning in his oval study although it is nearly two o'clock in the morning; maps and reports are on the President's desk; around him are secretaries, officers from the War Department; he is talking on the phone with a midwestern governor, eager voiced, making instant decisions. Or war threatens Europe. Secretary Hull and Under-Secretary Welles are in his bedroom before dawn; Ambassador Bullitt is calling from Paris. In Franklin Roosevelt there is fireman's blood, and he responds to the three-alarm bell like a veteran.

Only once was this healthy extrovert stopped. After the outbreak of war in Europe, last September, rumor had him "jittery" and those who work with him from day to day described him as "grim." Two months passed before he was able to throw off that grimness. After Congress approved his neutrality bill, he went to Warm Springs with the utter relaxation that is one of the virtues of a healthy nervous system. Now he has regained the vibrant self-confidence which so delights his admirers and disturbs his doubters.

Ten years ago, as he was about to enter his second campaign for governor of New York, Mr. Roosevelt applied for a large amount of life insurance for the benefit of the Georgia Warm Springs Foundation. He was forty-eight years old. After a careful examination twenty-two companies offered to insure his life for a million dollars. He took $560,000 of this amount. The President could pass the same examination today with just as high a rating, in the opinion of his personal physician.

Mr. Roosevelt's Day

THE PRESIDENT'S DAY BEGINS BETWEEN 8:30 AND 9 WITH A leisurely breakfast in bed. His secretaries and intimate advisers are likely to be present, and perhaps a member of his cabinet. Should one of the grandchildren be a guest at the White House, the early visitor will find Franklin III or little Sara in the President's bed, playing with his cigarette holder, his glasses, his watch. Later he dresses with the aid of a valet and is pushed in a wheelchair to his desk in the office building.

Appointments begin at 10 or 10:30 and go through to 5 or 5:30, with a luncheon conference over trays brought to the President's desk. He may invite his last visitor to swim with him in the pool that was built when he came to the White House. With a powerful backstroke, he swims there four or five times a week. Customarily the swim is followed by a thorough massage. The paralysis which crippled the President did not destroy all the muscles of his lower body and the healthy muscle groups are given special attention. This massage is an excellent restorative, often enabling the President to appear fresh and vigorous before an important audience at the end of a tiring day.

If there are no social functions in the evening, he may have further conferences in his study. Or he may read, or work at his stamp collection. At formal receptions he goes quietly or to his own quarters when he has greeted the last guest, leaving Mrs. Roosevelt to do the honors for the remainder of the evening. This is one of the definite advantages of his infirmity. To relieve the strain of standing for the hour required to shake a thousand hands, supporting himself on the arm of an aide, the President last winter had constructed a special chair that permits him to receive in a half-standing, half-sitting position.

His personal physician, Dr. Ross T. McIntire, has never attempted to regiment his famous patient's life. From his immaculate office in the White House basement he keeps a watchful eye, but the President regulates his own habits. It has never been necessary to prescribe a diet. He eats heartily and enjoys his food, yet his weight has not varied more than five pounds, between 182 and 187. He is fond of game and fish. Foods ordinarily considered indigestible appeal to him, particularly terrapin. Sometimes the President takes a cocktail before dinner. Receiving dinner guests informally in his study, he may demand, "What'll you have?" But if he has a cocktail then, he takes nothing to drink after dinner.