Sh.—That’s an easy one: I had made up my mind to demand your surrender.
Tor.—Ah, what a tender heart; what sensibility! It pained you, the thought of humiliating me.
Sh.—Not a bit of it; what worried me was the fear that you would refuse.
Tor.—And then there would be such—what you call effusion of blood. You are all compassion.
Sh.—Effusion of nothing. If you did not surrender to me I was going to surrender to you. My army was rotten with fever. Now what kept you awake, old man?
Tor.—The fear that you would surrender first. God o’ my soul!—we could not eat you!
A CABINET CONFERENCE
Hay, Secretary of State. Root, Secretary of War. Long, Secretary of the Navy.
Hay—Ah, glad to see you, gentlemen; punctuality is the politeness of princes. I feared we should have to postpone this Conference.