generals on the western front would
never hear the end of it."

"Ain't Hindenberg also a real general?" Abe asked.

"Not an old man like that, Abe," Morris replied. "He used to was a real
general, but now he is just a mascot for the Germans and a bogey man for
us, which I bet yer the most that feller does to help along the war is
to wear warm woolen underwear, keep out of draughts, and not get his
feet wet under any circumstances at his age. Furthermore, Abe, I ain't
so sure that the Germans is withdrawing so many soldiers as they claim
from the Russian frontier, neither, y'understand, because the way them
Bolsheviki has swung around to Germany must sound to the Kaiser almost
too good to be true, and I bet yer also he figures that maybe it isn't
because nobody knows better as the Kaiser how much reliance you could
place on a deal between one country and another, even when it's in
writing and signed by the party to be charged, which, for all any one
could tell, whether Russia is now a government, a co-partnership, a
corporation, or only so to speak a voluntary association, Abe, the
Kaiser might just as well sign his peace treaty with Pavlowa and Nordkin
as with Lenine and Trotzky, so far as binding the Russian people is
concerned."

"It ain't a peace treaty which them fellers wants to sign, Mawruss," Abe
said. "It's a bill of sale, which I see that Lenine and Trotzky agrees
Germany should import goods into Russia free of duty and that she should
take Russian Poland and Courland and a lot of other territory, and if
that's what is called making peace, Mawruss, then you might just as well
say that a lawsuit is compromised by allowing the feller which sues to
get a judgment and have the sheriff collect on it."

"And at that, Abe," Morris said, "there ain't a German merchant which
wouldn't be only too delighted to swap his rights to import goods into
Russia free of duty _after the war_ for three-quarters of a pound of
porterhouse steak and a ten-cent loaf of white bread right now, which
the way food is so scarce nowadays in Germany, Abe, when a Berlin
business man's family gets through with the Sunday dinner, and the
servant-girl clears off the table, there's no use asking should she give
the bones to the dog, because the chances is they _are_ the dog,
understand me. As for sugar, we think we've got a kick coming when we
could only get two teaspoonfuls to a cup of coffee for five cents,
y'understand, whereas in Germany t