XII: INTERESTING ST. LOUIS
XII.
INTERESTING ST. LOUIS
MET BY THE MAYOR—ANOTHER INTELLIGENT REPORTER—NEWS FROM HOME AND VIEWS THEREON—LUNCHEON AT WOMEN'S CLUB
WE were met at St. Louis station by a vast crowd of photographers, reporters—male and female—headed by the Mayor, a grand fellow called Henry W. Kiel. He motored me to the Hotel Statler where my rooms were full of roses and, in spite of an iron bed, we were more than comfortable. I am like stuff that is guaranteed not to wash, so I sat down at once to talk to the reporters, among whom I observed one man of supreme intelligence. Caustic and bitter, he interrupted the females and asked to be allowed to return to us after dinner. Mr. Paul Anderson and I had a first rate discussion, while my secretary typed and telephoned till, with his usual consideration, he came back to send me to bed, where I remained like a trout on a bank with piles of old Times's which Mr. Anderson had brought me.
I read details, for the first time, of Mr. Montague's resignation, and smiled over the belated theory of the joint responsibility of our British Cabinet. When one recalls the many conflicting opinions expressed by every minister without rebuke, culminating in the Admiralty note upon the Geddes Report, the Prime Minister's indignation is more than droll. I presume the Conservative wing of the Coalition wanted to get rid of Indian Reform as interpreted by the Viceroy and Mr. Montague, and I shall watch with interest the action that Lord Reading will take upon the matter.
Arresting Ghandi was as unwise as stealing a cow from a temple; but from such a distance political comment may be as belated as the theory of cabinet responsibility; and the inspired agitator—beloved of his people—may, for all I know, be governing India at the present moment.
St. Louis is among the most interesting cities I have visited. The Mississippi is commanded upon both its banks by huge buildings, and spanned by grand bridges. There is a private park as large as the Bois de Boulogne, and an open air theatre with oak trees on either side of the stage. The school buildings and Washington College are of perfect architecture, and I was grateful to Mrs. Moore—a woman of sympathy and authority—for driving me out to a lovely club house for tea, which gave me an opportunity of seeing the environment.
I was entertained the next day at a private luncheon given by a ladies' club and was glad to be sitting next to dear Mrs. Moore. Observing a single gentleman seated among the company I asked in a whisper who he was; upon being told he was a reporter I said, in an aside to my other neighbour, that for the rest of the meal I would confine my remarks to: "Yes," "No," or "I wonder!" and "How true!" Upon this the unfortunate young man was conducted from the room. He had a peculiarly charming face and when I saw what had happened I said I was afraid I also would have to leave the table, as I could not allow any guest to be insulted for my sake; at which he was allowed to return. I apologised to him, saying that though I had imagined this to be an informal gathering at which no newspapers would be represented, I did not wish him to be treated with any lack of courtesy, and hoped he would not make copy out of any foolish thing I might have said. He was particularly nice and, although I shall probably never see what he has written about me, I am willing to "take a chance"—as they express it over here.
After signing my name twenty-three times—as flattering as it was fatiguing—the Mayor came to fetch me away. Mrs. Moore and two other ladies accompanied us on a motor drive to see the city. The Mayor—who is a big man—sat rather uncomfortably between me and Mrs. Moore, and said that, with the permission of the other two ladies he proposed to put his arm round my waist as, being engaged to speak at a meeting of the Boy Scouts, he would be unable to attend my lecture in the evening. I told him that, after this, nothing but bribery and corruption could re-elect him as the Mayor of St. Louis.
"Then I shall return to my original occupation, Mrs. Asquith; I started life as a bricklayer, and I have not forgotten my trade, at which I am unrivalled."