mind's eye."

One night at dinner at _Groote Schuur_ we had sweet potatoes. He asked
me if they were common in America. I replied that down in Kentucky where
I was born one of the favorite negro dishes was "'possum and sweet
potatoes." He took me up at once saying:

"Oh, yes, I have read about ''possum pie' in Joel Chandler Harris'
books." Then he proceeded to tell me what a great institution "Br'er
Rabbit" was.

We touched on German poetry and I quoted two lines that I considered
beautiful. When I remarked that I thought Heine was the author he
corrected me by proving that they were written by Schiller.

Lloyd George could never carry on a conversation like this for the
simple reason that he lacks familiarity with literature. He feels
perhaps like the late Charles Frohman who, on being asked if he read the
dramatic papers said: "Why should I read about the theatre. I _make_
dramatic history."

I asked Smuts what he was reading at the moment. He looked at me with
some astonishment and answered, "Nothing except public documents. It's a
good thing that I was able to do some reading before I became Prime
Minister. I certainly have no time now."

Take the matter of languages. Lloyd George has always professed that he
did not know French, and on all his trips to France both during and
since the war he carried a staff of interpreters. He understands a good
deal more French than he professes. His widely proclaimed ignorance of
the language has stood him in good stead because it has enabled him to
hear a great many things that were not intended for his ears. It is part
of his political astuteness. Smuts is an accomplished linguist. It has
been said of him that he "can be silent in more languages than any man
in South Africa."

Lloyd George is a clever politician with occasional inspired moments but
he is not exactly a statesman as Disraeli and Gladstone were. Smuts has
the unusual combination of statesmanship with a knowledge of every
wrinkle in the political game.

Take his experience at the Paris Peace Conference. He was distinguished
not so much for what he did, (and that was considerable), but for what
he opposed. No man was better qualified to voice the sentiment of the
"small nation." Born of proud and liberty-loving people,--an infant
among the giants--he was attuned to every aspiration of an hour that
realized many a one-time forlorn national hope. Yet his statesmanship
tempered sentimental impulse.

In tha