HEART-TO-HEART TALKS.
(The GERMAN CROWN PRINCE and Fritz, his Valet.)
The Crown Prince (in bed and yawning). Is that you, Fritz?
Fritz. Yes, your Royal Highness. What uniform shall I lay out for his Royal Highness?
The C.P. You can lay out the best I have—the one of the Death's Head Hussars, with all my stars and medals. I am expecting an important visit.
Fritz (with a meaning smile). If I might venture so far, I would suggest to his Royal Highness that he should wear the Trench uniform, which I arranged with the bullet-holes and the mud-splashes. It creates a greater effect, especially if the visitor be a lady.
The C.P. Fritz, you dog, how dare you? Very well, have it your own way and let it be the Trench uniform.
Fritz. I am only anxious to promote his Royal Highness's interest in every possible way.
The C.P. I know, I know. Only we shall have old HINDENBURG growling and grunting and looking as black as a thundercloud. I cannot imagine what my revered father sees in that old wooden effigy, whose only idea of strategy is to retreat from strong positions. That, at any rate, is not the fashion in which I have learnt war. I'm thoroughly tired of hearing of all these HINDENBURG plans, which come to nothing.