“Well,” said Mr. Blaine, “we don’t look at it in that light.  I am interested in railroads, and we formerly used to pay you for steel rails ninety dollars per ton for every ton we got—­nothing less.  Now, just before I sailed from home our people made a large contract with our friend Carnegie at thirty dollars per ton.  I am somewhat under the impression that if Carnegie and others had not risked their capital in developing their manufacture on our side of the Atlantic, we would still be paying you ninety dollars per ton to-day.”

Here Sir Charles broke in:  “You may be sure you would.  Ninety dollars was our agreed-upon price for you foreigners.”

Mr. Blaine smilingly remarked:  “Mr. Chamberlain, I don’t think you have made a very good case against our friend Carnegie.”

“No,” he replied; “how could I, with Sir Charles giving me away like that?”—­and there was general laughter.

Blaine was a rare raconteur and his talk had this great merit:  never did I hear him tell a story or speak a word unsuitable for any, even the most fastidious company to hear.  He was as quick as a steel trap, a delightful companion, and he would have made an excellent and yet safe President.  I found him truly conservative, and strong for peace upon all international questions.

[Illustration:  SKIBO CASTLE]

CHAPTER XXVIII

HAY AND McKINLEY

John Hay was our frequent guest in England and Scotland, and was on the eve of coming to us at Skibo in 1898 when called home by President McKinley to become Secretary of State.  Few have made such a record in that office.  He inspired men with absolute confidence in his sincerity, and his aspirations were always high.  War he detested, and meant what he said when he pronounced it “the most ferocious and yet the most futile folly of man.”

The Philippines annexation was a burning question when I met him and Henry White (Secretary of Legation and later Ambassador to France) in London, on my way to New York.  It gratified me to find our views were similar upon that proposed serious departure from our traditional policy of avoiding distant and disconnected possessions and keeping our empire within the continent, especially keeping it out of the vortex of militarism.  Hay, White, and I clasped hands together in Hay’s office in London, and agreed upon this.  Before that he had written me the following note: 

     London, August 22, 1898

     MY DEAR CARNEGIE: 

I thank you for the Skibo grouse and also for your kind letter.  It is a solemn and absorbing thing to hear so many kind and unmerited words as I have heard and read this last week.  It seems to me another man they are talking about, while I am expected to do the work.  I wish a little of the kindness could be saved till I leave office finally.

I have read with the keenest interest