MORE SECRET HISTORY.
[According to a report in a daily paper, at the recent Peace Conference held at Spa, where the delegates were royally entertained in the matter of hotel accommodation, meals, etc., the cigar bill (which has been sent in to the League of Nations and sent out again) amounted to three thousand two hundred pounds. What the delegates could not smoke they seem to have taken away with them.]
’Tis sweet in darkish times like these to see a
Rent in the veil which keeps the public blind,
And thus obtain a pretty shrewd idea
Of what goes on behind;
To note how quite an innocent report’ll
Reveal apparent trifles which befall,
Proving that men whom we supposed immortal
Are human after all.
But here, while I can hardly call you blameful
For smoking "free" cigars with so much zest,
Frankly I feel ’twas little short of shameful
To go and pinch the rest.
I can forgive your huge hotel expenses;
Your beef was rightly of a super-cut;
A modicum of wine does whet the senses;
But those cigars—tut, tut!
For there’s a finer aid to meditation,
Much more appropriate, in my humble view,
When Nation nestles cheek by jowl with Nation,
And far, far cheaper too.
So, if you’d really slay Bellona’s bow-wows,
Might I suggest your vicious ways should cease,
And that in future you conduct your pow-wows
Over the pipe of peace.