On Learning This Fact, I Made It My Business To Study Her Weaknesses And
Soon Discovered That She Was Fond Of A Particular Brand Of Chianti.
A
flask of this vintage was promptly secured; then, dissatisfied with its
materialistic aspect, I caused it to be garlanded with a wreath of
violets and despatched it to her private apartment by the prettiest
child I could pick up in the street.
That is the way to touch their
hearts. The offering was repeated at convenient intervals.
A little item in the newspaper led to some talk, one morning, about the
war. I found she shared the view common to many others, that this is an
"interested" war. Society has organized itself on new lines, lines which
work against peace. There are so many persons "interested" in keeping up
the present state of affairs, people who now make more money than they
ever made before. Everybody has a finger in the pie. The soldier in the
field, the chief person concerned, is voiceless and of no account when
compared with this army of civilians, every one of whom would lose, if
the war came to an end. They will fight like demons, to keep the fun
going. What else should they do? Their income is at stake. A man's heart
is in his purse.
I asked:
"Supposing, Madame, you desired to end the war, how would you set about
it?"
Whereupon a delightfully Tuscan idea occurred to her.
"I think I would abolish this Red-Cross nonsense.
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