own terms of reconciliation, I do not
see how it can last over six months more on anything like the present
scale, for the Kaiser, despite his kinship with Deity, can neither
create men nor extract gold coins out of an empty hat. Military
arguments, in Germany as elsewhere, hold good only for a certain period.

*Barrie at Bay: Which Was Brown?*

*An Interview on the War.*

*From The New York Times, Oct. 1, 1914.*

As our reporter entered Sir James Barrie's hotel room by one door, the
next door softly closed. "I was alone," writes our reporter. "I sprang
into the corridor and had just time to see him fling himself down the
elevator. Then I understood what he had meant when he said on the
telephone that he would be ready for me at 10:30.

I returned thoughtfully to the room, where I found myself no longer
alone. Sir James Barrie's "man" was there; a stolid Londoner, name of
Brown, who told me he was visiting America for the first time.

"Sir James is very sorry, but has been called away," he assured me
without moving a muscle. Then he added: "But this is the pipe," and he
placed a pipe of the largest size on the table.

"The pipe he smokes?" I asked.

Brown is evidently a very truthful man, for he hesitated. "That is the
interview pipe," he explained. "When we decided to come to America, Sir
James said he would have to be interviewed, and that it would be wise to
bring something with us for the interviewers to take notice of. So he
told me to buy the biggest pipe I could find, and he practiced holding
it in his mouth in his cabin on the way across. He is very pleased with
the way the gentlemen of the press have taken notice of it."

"So that is not the pipe he really smokes?" I said, perceiving I was on
the verge of a grand discovery. "I suppose he actually smokes an
ordinary small pipe."

Again Brown hesitated, but again truth prevailed.

"He does not smoke any pipe," he said, "nor cigars, nor cigarettes; he
never smokes at all; he just puts that one in his mouth to help the
interviewers."

"It has the appearance of having been smoked," I pointed out.

"I blackened it for him," the faithful fellow replied.

"But he has written a book in praise of My Lady Nicotine."

"So I have heard," Brown said guardedly. "I think that was when he was
hard up and had to write what people wanted; but he never could abide
smoking himself. Years after he wrote the book he read it; he had quite
forgotten it, and