save their Fatherland? It is sad to feel that the "Hymn of Independence" I heard on all sides at Angora, should sound as much "out of harmony" with the tone of the Conference, as "Anatolian" folk-songs with a Jazz Band!
America has sent "representatives," whose chief is called An Observer and rejoices in the name of Child—"The Child Observer" or, as it is whispered, "The Boy Scout." To point the humour of the situation, I naturally expected to meet a hoary-headed old gentleman with a long white beard, like his predecessor at Rome, Ambassador Robert Underwood Johnson. But though I was not aware of it at the time, he is the very young man I reduced to silence, by inquiring the way in what he called voluble French, who simply led me to the place without comment, rang the bell, and went away!
At the Conference one still sees the Powers in turn calling Turkey "to order," when their own arrogance has reduced her delegate to a condition of what the Press calls his "more than usual insolence." Then the "Boy Scout" or "Child Observer" would "try a little kindness," to Ismet Pasha. "Don't you see the whole world is against you," to which came the dignified rejoinder, "We have become accustomed to that."
As it was in Angora, everyone here talks politics all day. But I am told that, while they only enjoyed themselves at Genoa, they do work at Lausanne. I quite believe in this "work"; certainly the Turkish delegates are hard at it till two or three every morning. But they do not forget enjoyment altogether. The younger members from the commissions have treated themselves to a thê dansant. "It warms your feet," said Hussein Djahid, who takes his dancing very seriously. "Surely Turks don't suffer from cold feet," I exclaimed, "and I don't believe you really like it, you only dance to show us that you can dance."
The Press is luxuriously installed in a miniature palace of its own, at the Palace Hotel; a bar, of course, a gramophone, a perfect dancing-floor, roulette, and,
