Count B. God knows, your Majesty, that it is not I who have a smiling face.  At such a moment there could be no reason for it.  But your Majesty will remember, in justice to myself, that I have not ceased to warn your Majesty from the very beginning that unless something actual and definite was conceded to the feeling of the United States trouble would surely come.  First there was the treatment of Belgium—­

The Kaiser.  Bah!  Don’t talk to me of Belgium and the Belgians.  No more ungrateful race has ever infested the earth.  Besides, did I not say that my heart bled for Louvain?

Count B. The Americans, your Majesty, had the bad taste not to believe you.  It was in vain that I spread those gracious words of yours broadcast throughout the land.  They only laughed at your Majesty.

The Kaiser.  Yes, I know they did, curse them.

Count B. Then there came the deplorable sinking of the Lusitania.

The Kaiser.  Oh, don’t speak to me of the Lusitania.  I’m sick to death of the very name.  Besides, how do you dare to call her sinking deplorable?  I authorised it; that ought to be enough for you and for everybody else.

Count B. I beg your Majesty’s pardon.  When I said “deplorable” I was alluding not so much to the act itself as to its effect on opinion in the United States.  From that moment the Americans stiffened in their attitude towards us and became definitely and strongly unfavourable.  I warned your Majesty of this over and over again, but your Majesty preferred to disregard what I said.

The Kaiser.  And have you any complaint to make?  Is your opinion of yourself so high that one may not without sacrilege disregard your opinion?

Count B. Your Majesty is pleased to jest.  I am not infallible, not being an Emperor, but I happen in this case to have been right.  And then on the top of all the other things comes the Note announcing the new under-sea policy, and the ridiculous offer to allow the Americans to be safe in one ship a week, provided she is painted in a certain way.  No, really, with a proud nation—­

The Kaiser.  Proud!  A race of huckstering money-grubbers.

Count B. With a proud nation—­I must repeat it, your Majesty—­such a course must lead straight to war.  But perhaps that was what your advisers wanted, though I cannot see why they should want it.  But for myself I must ask your Majesty to remember that I foretold what has come to pass.  There is perhaps yet time to undo the mischief.

The Kaiser.  No, it is too late.

* * * * *

AS OTHERS SEE US.

The General Officer Commanding, as he appears to: 

(1) His Chief of Staff.—­The one insuperable obstacle to tactical triumphs such as CAESAR and NAPOLEON never knew.

(2) His youngest A.D.C.—­A perpetual fountain of unsterilized language.