To The Graphic
Greencastle, Ind.
The evening of Dec. 10th we sailed out of Santos, redolent of coffee, and the next morning docked in Montevideo, to be met by another "angel" from one of those heaven sent Companies we've been blessed with so far. . . With the aid of an interpreter, we were to have our pictures taken and give an interview to a reporter for one of the newspapers.
They wanted to know how we liked Uruguay and Montevideo.
Naturally, we didn't know, not having set foot on either yet.
Well, where were we going and what were we going to do—business, pleasure or diplomatic? And all this time I was repeatedly asked what advice I had to give to the people of Uruguay. You bet I had none—none whatever.
When this filtered to the reporter, he looked amazed and puzzled. He was thinking. The next perplexed question that came through the strainer was, "But you are a lawyer, aren't you?"
"Yes, I am a lawyer, but a lawyer is the last fellow you want to go to up home for advice—except politicians, veterinarians and undertakers."
They caught the "politician" part of it, but I don't think the reporter ever did unravel the rest of it.
He was a persistent pressman, however, and kept firing the advice question at me.
I finally said, "I have no advice whatsoever to whomsoever," etc. (using other big sounding words lawyers use when they don't know) "to give you splendid sovereign peoples of Uruguay. If I had to give something, it would be this: observe International Law and your Treaties to the letter, and then run your own country in your own way and without let or hindrance from anybody outside."
The interview was an unqualified success judged from the nods, gesticulations and shaking of hands. I got so I thought it was pretty good myself.