in very prominent German
statesman had a daughter at school in England, and that future friendly
relations between the two countries were improved in prospect, if not
assured, by that circumstance. You think I am laughing; I am recording a
fact, and the men present were politicians and statesmen as well as
literary dilettanti. It was an insular lack of insight that worked the
mischief, or some of the mischief. We, in Hungary, we live too much
cheek by jowl with our racial neighbours to have many illusions about
them. Austrians, Roumanians, Serbs, Italians, Czechs, we know what they
think of us, and we know what to think of them, we know what we want in
the world, and we know what they want; that knowledge does not send us
flying at each other's throats, but it does keep us from growing soft.
Ah, the British lion was in a hurry to inaugurate the Millennium and to
lie down gracefully with the lamb. He made two mistakes, only two, but
they were very bad ones; the Millennium hadn't arrived, and it was not a
lamb that he was lying down with."

"You do not like the English, I gather," said Yeovil, as the Hungarian
went off into a short burst of satirical laughter.

"I have always liked them," he answered, "but now I am angry with them
for being soft. Here is my station," he added, as the train slowed down,
and he commenced to gather his belongings together. "I am angry with
them," he continued, as a final word on the subject, "because I hate the
Germans."

He raised his hat punctiliously in a parting salute and stepped out on to
the platform. His place was taken by a large, loose-limbed man, with
florid face and big staring eyes, and an immense array of fishing-basket,
rod, fly-cases, and so forth. He was of the type that one could
instinctively locate as a loud-voiced, self-constituted authority on
whatever topic might happen to be discussed in the bars of small hotels.

"Are you English?" he asked, after a preliminary stare at Yeovil.

This time Yeovil did not trouble to disguise his nationality; he nodded
curtly to his questioner.

"Glad of that," said the fisherman; "I don't like travelling with
Germans."

"Unfortunately," said Yeovil, "we have to travel with them, as partners
in the same State concern, and not by any means the predominant partner
either."

"Oh, that will soon right itself," said the other with loud
assertiveness, "that will right itself damn soon."

"Nothing in politics rights itself,