many in the conduct of the war, and to the forcing of a break between Mexico and the United States with the idea of embarrassing this country when all its resources and energies are devoted to the stupendous task of carrying on offensive warfare in Europe.

The material threat comes down practicany to oil. It is really less of a German than a Mexican menace. Now as to the immaterial working of the German contagion.

For many years before the war began Germany had perfected a thorough organization in Mexico for the extension of their trade interests and the furtherance of their political influence. This is called the Verband Deutscher Reichsangehöriger (Union of Subjects of the German Empire). It has headquarters in the Boker Building in Mexico City, with branches established in thirty-one Mexican towns and cities, including all the principal commercial centres. The First Chief of the Deutscher Verband is an energetic German subject by the name of R. von Lubeck, who lives at 28 Calle Berlin and has his own offices also in the Boker Building. He is a retired merchant, formerly of the firm of Boker & Company, the leading hardware company of Mexico City. Last May one Fritz Sommer, the son of E. Sommer, leading jeweler of Mexico, was traveling around the country organizing and perfecting the work of this society.

When the war came to Mexico the whole of the Deutscher Verband shifted, from a commercial to a war footing. They have ever since continued to function on a war basis. A committee under the chairmanship of Lubeck is actively working with the forty German officers in the Mexican army. They are also closely associated with Colonel del Campo of the Corps of Engineers and with an able anti-American Spaniard named Guardiola, the editor of La Regeneración, of Saltillo. Left to itself, the Mexican army would be proGerman. It is easy to see why much of it is keenly pro-German.

The press of the country is an increasingly active force in literate Mexico. The United Reichsangehöriger works through the Mexican

Monterey it subsidizes El Heraldo Europeo and furnishes, gratis, pro-German news for papers all over Mexico. In conjunction with La Sociedad Ebero Americana of Hamburg and the Transocean of Berlin, it publishes and distributes broadcast in Spanish wellwritten pamphlets on the German side of all current questions arising out of the war.

GERMAN PROPAGANDA IN MEXICO

Efficient and shrewd are the United Subjects of the Empire. They back up their news in the practical way of encouraging their own and other business men to advertise in the Mexican papers which print their propaganda. The movies work for them, and they hire lecturers. In May, Manuel Ugarte, the well-known anti-American agitator, a Portuguese mulatto from Buenos Aires, was giving a series of "conferences" in Mexico City under the academic auspices of the University and the financial management of the Deutscher Verband. In Vera Cruz, Cordoba, Puebla, Mexico, Querétaro, and San Luis Potosí, I found Deutscher posters plastered over the walls of gardens and buildings, abusing the United States in vigorous Spanish and interpreting events in bright German colors. Every Mexican town is similarly plastered. You wonder where they get the money, but even in your wrath you can't help admiring the effective way in which the money is spent. Mexico has Boy Scouts, several thousand of them, but they are all of the German variety, drilled in German style. It is very amusing to see the little rascals pounding their native soil with the German goose step. German influence is felt all through the Department of Public Education and, as in the case of the press, it is effectively backed up by practical advantages in the form of free courses in the German language, in calisthenics, and some forms of industrial teaching. One morning all the papers recorded the munificent gift of ten thousand pesos ($5,000) donated by the German Minister, Von Eckhardt, for the founding of a good hospital. The papers did not record that he collected that fund by levying tribute on his hard-pressed nationals.

All through the strained relations which have existed between Mexico and the United States, even before our declaration of war against Germany, this unseen, subtle working of German influence kept up an active and

helpful sympathy with Mexico. They promised money, they spoke of alliance, they hinted at the gift of territory. This sympathy paved the way for the diplomatic blunder of the Zimmerman note which, however fatal in other respects, did unquestionably have the effect of flattering Carranza and the 5 per cent. of Mexico which he represents by the international notice it gave them. It made the task of Ambassador Fletcher more difficult in winning the nominal accession of Mexico to our cause, or at least a proclaimed neutrality. Carranza, up to the first of November, had not proclaimed the neutrality of Mexico, although he mentioned it in his address to the Mexican Congress at its extraordinary session on April 15th, and "reaffirmed" it in an interview with a representative of the New York American on April 28th. In November, 1916, however, when Carranza got out his amazing note proposing that all neutral Governments unite in cutting off food and fuel supplies from all the Allies, the nominal neutrality of Mexico was necessarily therein implied, but it is helpful to know that this interesting document was issued within a week after the return of Zubaran, the Mexican Minister to and from Germany. In its English form, this note will not go back into idiomatic Spanish. It will re-translate into perfect German.

A TYPICAL INCIDENT

At the extraordinary session of the Mexican Congress, on April 15th last, already referred to, an incident, that was variously and incorrectly reported at the time, occurred which was so characteristic of German machinations that this brief exposition of German influence in Mexico would be incomplete without a mention of it.

The session was convened in order that the Primer Jefe might read before it an account of his stewardship and officially chronicle events which had taken place since the beginning of the revolution four years before. It was-Ladies and Gentlemen, and Outsiders, Venustiano Carranza presents Mexico. A big crowd gathered in front of the doorways and greeted arrivals with varying degrees of approval and insult. The German Minister was one of the first to arrive. He was enthusiastically applauded and viva'd outside—indeed, the crowd made more noise than they did on the arrival of the First Chief himself and as he entered the building and

appeared in the gallery assigned to him he became the object of a demonstration by the spectators and by several Germanophile members on the floor of Congress. The applause was quickly suppressed by General Hay, the presiding officer, who announced that demonstrations for or against foreign representatives would not be permitted.

Nevertheless, when the American Ambassador arrived with the members of his staff he was received with a little perfunctory handclapping and a lot of vigorous booing and whistling. In Mexico they don't hiss except to attract attention in a friendly way; to express disapproval or insult they whistle. For five mortal hours the First Chief read his interpretative report. Shorn of its departmental summaries, it is an extremely able and interesting State paper. At the end of the reading, as Congress adjourned, another demonstration took place in the building and outside.

It was now eleven o'clock at night, but a crowd larger than that which had greeted the opening of the session at 6 P. M. gathered about the steps, shouting, Viva Alemania ! Viva el Emperador de Alemania! Not a solitary policeman or a soldier was on hand to preserve order or control the crowd, as the American Ambassador, followed by his staff, made his way as best he could through the press to his motor car. The crowd whistled and hooted, but there was no violence. A particularly vigorous Viva Alemania! stopped Mr. Fletcher for a moment. Viva Mejico! he replied, with a good-natured smile, so that all near by heard him. The German Minister, following closely behind, was viva'd enthusiastically and escorted by a cheering crowd to his car.

This whole performance was staged and paid for by German agents and sympathizers. Manuel Ugarte took a hand in it by providing a great many students from the University who were his supporters in his anti-American conferences.

That same night a telegram was sent to the German consuls at Guadalajara, San Luis Potosí, and Monterey, and to German agents in other Mexican towns. The telegram was signed "Von Lubeck." In the towns where it was received, not more than twenty-four hours after its receipt the walls were plastered with posters recounting the episode in Mexico City on the opening of Congress. In spite of all their trouble, the German trick fell rather flat. The undisturbed composure and the

good humor of the American representatives actually disarmed the crowd, which in spite of itself seemed at the end rather more goodnatured itself than malicious or hostile.

WHAT TO DO ABOUT IT

Unquestionably the object of our diplomacy for Mexico's sake, and for our own sake, is to maintain and improve the status quo, at least until the conclusion of the war of all nations. Progress has unmistakably been made toward that end. But it is progress against the grain of Mexico. It has nothing to do with the heart or the inclinations. It is purely a matter of policy, of necessity. Mexico, that part of Mexico which can read and reason, is beginning to see that we hold all the cards.

In case of a break, we would not have to send a soldier across the line. We could police the border with the citizen soldiery of the border states, blockade every Mexican port, and starve Mexico into good behavior. This we could do and we could also take our pressure off the forces antagonistic to the Government, which we alone have enabled to remain partially de facto and have impliedly recognized as de jure, and thus allow Messrs. Villa, Zapata, Felix Diaz, and their co-agitators to work their will on their forlorn fatherland.

Such a campaign would divert very little money or effort and need not materially distract our attention from our main job. After that were finished, Mexico could be summarily dealt with by a nation in arms.

We can found and support hospitals, give free instruction in schools, help Mexico get on its feet-not in an offensive, patronizing way, but in spite of rebuffs, in a patient and a friendly way and we can influence our own daily and periodical press to treat Mexico and its administration as sympathetically as possible. It is really up to us whether or not Germany continues to be a menace on our Mexican flank.

And things are coming our way somewhat. For example, late in October the following despatch came from Mexico City:

MEXICO CITY, Oct. 19.-Local papers comment favorably on the statement made in Congress by General Vigil, who contended that Mexico should join the Allies. Editorially they say that is the only possible means for Mexico to take her place in the world. The declarations of General Vigil caused surprise. He is one of the leaders of the Constitutionalist Club, which nominated Carranza for the Presidency.

A group of Senators, headed by Rafael Zubaran, ex-Minister to Germany; Jesus Urueta, ex-Speaker of Congress; Sanchez Ancona, ex-Minister to France; Juan Zubaran, General Nafarette, Senator Cutbert Hidalgo, and Alberto Pani is behind a movement to force a declaration in favor of the entrance of Mexico into the war with the Allies without further delay.

In his speech before the Chamber of Deputies yesterday General Vigil declared it the duty of Mexico to take sides against Germany. The speech was applauded by the great majority of the members and the galleries.

The General said he thought that Mexico and the present Government had not shown a proper spirit of gratitude to President Wilson and the United States.

"Why vacillate?" he asked. "Is it because the Government has not gained information of the true course of public opinion? No. It is because the

natural antipathy. The thing to do is to meet Germany at its own game and make the United States popular enough for Carranza to turn to. We can counteract German propaganda by our own propaganda in good Spanish. Our consular officers ought to be provided with accurate war information fed in to them through our own and our allied sources. They ought to be instructed to disseminate this information through all their business connections in Mexico. Let us also back up our news by advertising in the Mexican papers. The very scale and unity of our preparations for the European war will affect Mexico. We ought to make sure that it is not minimized.

lated by those who, enthusiastic over the ferocities of Huerta, are now enthusiastic over the German Government, which has trampled upon all the sacred rights of nations and shown no respect for treaties.

"I will continue to proclaim in Congress that Mexico should unite frankly with the countries who are defending democratic principles, which are the same Mexico fought for during the revolution and which Mexico will continue to fight for."

The newspapers here devote much space to the discussion of a possible break with Germany. The Universal says that a simple declaration of benevolent neutrality would not be sufficient because, according to the statements of several Senators and Deputies, this would leave in existence German propaganda, information bureaus, and espionage.

S

HORT rations of sugar here in the United States have made even the stay-at-homes realize the physical discomforts of war, but a letter from an American who gives his address as "Somewhere in Greece" carries a suggestion of compensations that may accompany even greater restrictions upon diet. His rhapsody upon the aroma and taste of plain white bread after its absence from the table for months recalls a famous dissertation upon roast pig:

"SOMEWHERE IN GREECE."

I salute you (with a letter that may never get there):

What funny things you are like to come up with if you just nose around this old world long enough. Now, I was brought up to a sort of fine contempt for what is sometimes known as "the staff of life," but more vulgarly called "bread." But Lo! yesterday was a red-letter day in this house, because, forsooth! there was a loaf of white bread brought to the board -brought in a sort of solemn state-and served to five watering mouths that consumed it with all the avidity of hungry wolves.

And why? Well, that is a bit of story-and withal a bit of history as well. For, you see, there has been a strict blockade of all these coasts since high noon on the Eighth Day of December, Nineteen Hundred and Sixteen (as the high officer commanding the blockading fleet writes it in his official proclamation, thinking the matter of sufficient note to set it all down in good round words instead of leaving it to the treacherous hands of mere ciphers). And since that fateful hour nothing has passed in or out along these coasts-except it might be some late-flying bird that found its way in beneath the dark. No, not so much as a fishing boat with its orange sail has been granted leave to put out into the Bay nor a row boat to bring a brace of duck from the farther shore where game is said to abound.

And as a result of this isolation, the stock of wheat and flour in the land, never at high-water mark, has sunk and sunk till at last the bottom of the bin is in sight. Long since has good white bread passed from market and home. When it had ebbed low, the authorities tried to come to the rescue by ordering the public bakers to mix wheat and barley flour in proportion-with a result that what the bakeries turned out was not an article of food at all, but more in the nature of a

weapon of offense such as primal man might have hurled at his prey to bring it down. Later, under strict police supervision, some advance was made in the quality. But always the output of the bakeries was wholly beyond the power of delicate digestion. It resembled dark chocolate mud hardbaked, and was of about the same specific gravity. Taking wisdom to be the better part of valor, this house has refrained for the past month and more from partaking at all of the bread the market offered. And as Greek houses are never so appointed in their kitchen premises as to make possible the baking of bread at home, the family has been entirely without "the staff of life" for that length of time save such poor hoe-cakes as could be cooked now and then over a slow heap of coke embersnot much to boast of in the way of bread, it must be confessed in all frankness. Rice, potatoes, and beans-when they could be got-have been made to take the place of bread as best they might; and withal those who sat at table did not go away with appetites unappeased.

But on a day to be remembered, the old scrubwoman affirmed that if she had flour she could make bread herself and take it to be baked in the public oven. A modest sack of flour was stored in the pantry, the outcome of an appeal made by the head of the house to the Governor of the Province before the doors of the country were closed (for even then the authorities were controlling foodstuffs). This treasure, veritably worth its weight in gold, was brought forth. The scrub-woman posted off to the baker's for yeast. Was back like the witch in the story. Made the dough. Set it by the fire to rise. And next day made good her promise by bringing from the bakery four long, creamy loaves of pure wheat bread that made you fairly drivel at the mouth to look at, much less to smell.

How the bread was fallen upon and carved to pieces it were vain to narrate-for you would have to see the eyes of the youngsters (and older ones, too, for that) as the good work of demolition went on, to get the least apprehension of the epochmaking event.

Ah, you fortunate ones, who never know whether you eat bread at meal or not-you utterly miss the meaning of those simple words we trip from our lips, "the staff of life." And may you never have to learn their meaning in the school of Jean Valjean.

A side-light upon Lord Northcliffe's recent declaration that the submarine is still the

most sinister element of the present war is thrown by a letter received from Mr. Edward J. Norton, written from Malaga, Spain, after a visit to Gibraltar:

An American living in Spain to-day neither hears nor sees anything of the war. He finds the Spanish people firmly resolved to keep out of the struggle, and astonishingly unconcerned about the great fight for democracy that is convulsing the world. Below the surface there is widespread ignorance as to the cause for which the Allies drew the sword and the ideal which made the United States join them.

But one has only to take the ferry from Algeciras and steam six miles across Gibraltar Bay to feel the meaning of war. I have just returned from a two weeks' stay at Gibraltar. I have seen and heard Americans who have been on the foreign fighting line the ever-changing, deadly, and quickly disappearing furrow cut in the seas by the searching submarines.

HOW THE "PETROLITE" WENT DOWN

Of the hundred or more men-crews of torpedoed American ships-that I saw in Gibraltar, all but a few were anxious to return home. Not to get off the sea, but to find another ship-to get to sea again and play the Great Game. The men who did not want to go home were four gunners. They formed part of the naval crew (the others are still missing) aboard the Petrolite, which was torpedoed and sunk just before dawn on June 10th. None of the watch on deck saw the submarine; none saw the torpedo until a few seconds before it struck the ship. The Petrolite was split and cracked as though she had been built of lath instead of steel, and she went down in five minutes.

These gunners got off in a boat and sailed along for twelve hours before a British steamer came along and picked them up. Two hours later the British steamer was busily engaged in a running fight with another-perhaps the same, submarine. The fight lasted two hours. The return of the U-boat awakened joy in the hearts of our naval boys. They were not content with yelling at her. They got right around the guns and helped their British cousins. The result was that the slow old steamer beat off the submarine.

Upon being landed, the four gunners appeared at the Consulate begging Mr. Sprague not to send them home. "Can't you keep us somewhere around here, Mr. Consul? We want to fight this thing out; we don't want to go home. The papers say that an American torpedo squadron is in the Channel or the North Sea-send us on to join our fellows. Please cable the Department. Say that we didn't have a chance on the Petrolite and that while we are over here we want a real whack at the Germans."

Somewhere off the Balearic Islands, the Moreni, a ffne big tank ship flying the Stars and Stripes, was shelled and sunk the other day. I was aboard her as she lay in Gibraltar Bay. I saw her guns, with the naval detachment polishing, oiling, and swinging them about. "We are ready for any Hun submarine that has the crust to tackle us," said one of the gun crew, a handsome young American boy. How little that sturdy young gunner thought that the Moreni's voyage was nearly over. Little did any of us dream that the guns the crew were so carefully watching were being made ready for battle. Or that the broad steel deck we stood upon would soon bear red stains and then glow red over the burning cargo.

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THE LAST TRIP OF THE "MORENI"

As I came up on the train yesterday I bought a newspaper at Bobadilla. Two brief paragraphs told me the fate of the Moreni. But the young gunner was right. They were ready for the submarine. Both guns worked as steadily as though in drill instead of battle. After a while a shell fired by the submarine exploded in one of the oil compartments, and in a few minutes the Moreni was a moving mass of flame. Only then were the gunners driven from their platforms. Three men are reported dead. And kindly Captain Thompson is a prisoner aboard the submarine.

The American merchant marine has become a shipping that fights. And there is an American merchant marine. It is, perhaps, one of the marvelous productions of war. But during the past two weeks I have seen more ships carrying the American flag than in all the twenty years I have lived abroad. Queer looking ships from the Lakes now voyaging in salt water; and old sailing vessels laid up for many years are again doing duty.

I wonder if those at home are aware of the dauntless gallantry of the other Americans who cross the watery fighting line these days? The men in our merchant ships were the first to fight for us in the titanic struggle for the world's freedom. And I wish those at home could have seen and heard something of what I saw and heard at Gibraltar these past two weeks.

I listened to other stories of American ships sunk by torpedo or shell fire. And I better understand what is meant by terrorism on the high seas. I better understand why the submarine forced us into war. And I understand why the Allies and the United States must beat the Power that is waging this war of widespread destruction and terrorism and all the while demanding "the freedom of the seas."

The Sea-Wolves of the sixteenth and the pirates of the seventeenth centuries were as much entitled to the freedom of the seas as the Germany of today is entitled to it.