"Mr. President, I am one of the men in the United States who would profit most by war; it might throw millions into my pockets as the largest manufacturer of steel."
"Well, that is probably true in your case; I had forgotten."
"Mr. President, if I were going to fight, I would take some one of my size."
"Well, would you let any nation insult and dishonor you because of its size?"
"Mr. President, no man can dishonor me except myself. Honor wounds must be self-inflicted."
"You see our sailors were attacked on shore and two of them killed, and you would stand that?" he asked.
"Mr. President, I do not think the United States dishonored every time a row among drunken sailors takes place; besides, these were not American sailors at all; they were foreigners, as you see by their names. I would be disposed to cashier the captain of that ship for allowing the sailors to go on shore when there was rioting in the town and the public peace had been already disturbed."
The discussion continued until we had finally reached the door of the White House in the dark. The President told me he had an engagement to dine out that night, but invited me to dine with him the next evening, when, as he said, there would be only the family and we could talk.
"I am greatly honored and shall be with you to-morrow evening," I said. And so we parted.
The next morning I went over to see Mr. Blaine, then Secretary of State. He rose from his seat and held out both hands.