on that side and it may turn out that this will make an earlier
peace possible than would otherwise have come. And the Germans may
be--in fact, _must_ be, very short of some of the essentials of war
in their metals or in cotton. They are in a worse internal plight
than has been made known, I am sure. I can't keep from hoping that
peace may come this year. Of course, my guess may be wrong; but
everything I hear points in the direction of my timid prediction.

Bless you and little Alice,

Affectionately,

W.H.P.

Page's oldest son was building a house and laying out a garden at
Pinehurst, North Carolina, a fact which explains the horticultural and
gastronomical suggestions contained in the following letter:

_To Ralph W. Page_

Tregenna Castle Hotel,
St. Ives, Cornwall, England,
March 4, 1918.

DEAR RALPH:

Asparagus
Celery
Tomatoes
Butter Beans
Peas
Sweet Corn
Sweet Potatoes
Squash--the sort you cook in the rind
Cantaloupe
Peanuts
Egg Plant
Figs
Peaches
Pecans
Scuppernongs
Peanut-bacon, in glass jars
Razor-back hams, divinely cured
Raspberries
Strawberries
etc. etc. etc. etc.

You see, having starved here for five years, my mind, as soon as it
gets free, runs on these things and my mouth waters. All the
foregoing things that grow can be put up in pretty glass jars, too.

Add cream, fresh butter, buttermilk, fresh eggs. Only one of all
the things on page one grows with any flavour here at
all--strawberries; and only one or two more grow at all. Darned if
I don't have to confront Cabbage every day. I haven't yet
surrendered, and I never shall unless the Germans get us. Cabbage
and Germans belong together: God made 'em both the same stinking
day.

Now get a bang-up gardener no matter what he costs. Get him
started. Put it up to him to start toward the foregoing programme,
to be reached in (say) three years--two if possible. He must learn
to grow these things absolutely better than they are now grown
anywhere on earth. He must get the best seed. He must get muck out
of the swamp, manure from somewhere, etc. etc. He must have the
supreme flavour in each thing. Let him take room enough for
each--plenty of room. He doesn't want much room for any one