Upton Sinclair - Dragons’s teeth

"Do you know General Graf Stubendorf?" inquires one of the enormous elderly Valkyries.

"I have never had the honor," replies the American. "But I have visited Seine Hochgeboren’s home on many occasions."

"Indeed?" says Seine Hochgeboren. He is tall and stiff as a ramrod, with sharp, deeply lined features, gray hair not more than a quarter of an inch in length, a very bright new uniform with orders and decorations which he has earned during four years of never-to-be-forgotten war.

Lanny explains: "I have been for most of my life a friend of Kurt Meissner."

"Indeed?" replies the General Graf. "We consider him a great musician, and are proud of him at Stubendorf."

"I have spent many Christmases at the Meissner home," continues the young American. "I had the pleasure of listening to you address your people each year; also I heard your honored father, before the war."

"Indeed?" says Seine Hochgeboren, again. "I cannot live there any longer, but I go back two or three times a year, out of loyalty to my people." The gray-haired warrior is conveying to a former foe: "I cannot bear to live in my ancestral home because it has become a part of Poland, and is governed by persons whom I consider almost subhuman. You and your armies did it, by meddling without warrant in the affairs of Germany and snatching her hard-won victory from her grasp. Then you went off and left us to be plundered by the rapacious French and the shopkeeping British."

It is not a subject to be explored, so Lanny says some polite words of no special significance and passes on, reflecting: "If Johannes thinks he is winning that gentleman, he is surely fooling himself!"

But Lanny was making a mistake, as he discovered later in the evening. The stiff aristocrat approached him and spoke again, in a more cordial tone. "Mr. Budd, I have been realizing, I remember you in Stubendorf. Also I have heard Meissner speak of you."

"Herr Meissner has treated me as if I were another of his sons," replied Lanny, modestly.

" Ein braver Mensch," said Seine Hochgeboren. "His sons have rendered admirable service." He went on to speak of the family of his Comptroller-General, upon whose capability and integrity he depended as had his father before him. While hearing this formal speech, Lanny guessed what must have happened. The dowager Valkyrie had reminded the General Graf that this was the lucky young Taugenichts who had married the fabulously wealthy heiress. Not, as Seine Hochgeboren had supposed, some young snipe trying to make himself important by claiming intimacy with one of a nobleman’s employees!

So here was a great aristocrat manifesting condescension, noblesse oblige. He knew all about Mr. Budd, oh, of course! "Kurt Meissner composed much of his music in your home, I have heard." He didn’t add: "Kurt Meissner was your mother’s lover for many years, I have heard." He talked about Kurt’s compositions and showed that he really knew about them; echt deutsche Musik which could be praised without reserve. A young Franco-American who had built a studio for a musical genius to work in could meet on equal terms a Junker who had furnished a cottage for the genius to raise his

family in.

Presently it came out that Lanny had served as a secretary-translator on the staff of the American Commission to Negotiate Peace. "I should be interested to talk to you about those Paris days," remarked the officer. "You might be able to explain some points about the American attitude which have always been a mystery to me."

"I should be pleased to do my best," said Lanny, politely. "You must realize that your beautiful Schloss made a great impression upon a small boy, and your father and yourself appeared to me as very grand personalities."

Seine Hochgeboren smiled graciously. He hadn’t the slightest doubt that, his father had been a grand personality, or that he was one now. "Are you planning to come to Stubendorf this Christmas?" he inquired.

"Kurt has been inviting us," was the reply. "I am not sure if we can arrange it."

"I would be happy if you and your wife would visit the Schloss as my guests," said the General Graf.

"Thank you very much," replied the younger man. "I should have to ask the Meissners to give us up."

"I think they would do so," the other suggested, dryly.

"I will let you know a little later. I must consult my wife." Another peculiarity of Americans—they consulted their wives instead of telling them! But of course when the wife was as rich as this one —what was her name?

They watched that valuable wife, dancing with a handsome young attache of the American embassy staff. She was more than ever the young brunette Juno; some skilled couturier must have had the thought, for he had made her a gown of white silk chiffon with a hint of ancient Greece in it. For jewels she wore only her double rope of pearls; a fortune such as hers was beyond any quantity of stones to symbolize, and had better be left to the newspapers to proclaim. She danced with stately grace, smiled gently, and never chattered; yes, a young goddess, and an ornament to any Schieber’s ballroom.

When the party was over, Lanny escorted her upstairs. She had promised to have no more than two glasses of champagne, and had kept her word, but was not a little excited by the presence of so many distinguished persons, all of whom had costumes, manners, and modes of speech calculated to impress the daughter of a onetime Wall Street errand boy. She and her husband talked about this one and that while the maid helped her off with her gown. After she had rested for the required fifteen minutes, the baby was brought in for a nursing; quite a bundle now, nearly eight months old, and full of kicks and squirms and gurgles. She never needed any invitation, but took hold promptly, and while she worked away, Lanny told the mother about the invitation to Stubendorf. He had talked a lot about the "Christmas-card castle" with its snow-covered roofs gleaming in the early morning sunshine, and had made it seem as romantic to Irma as it had to him seventeen years ago.

"Shall we go?" she asked.

"If you would enjoy it."

"I think it would be ducky!" Then, after some reflection: "You and I really make a pretty good social team, don’t we, Lanny!"

THE results of the election had set Heinrich Jung in a seat of authority. He called Lanny on the telephone and poured out his exultation. There was no party but the N.S.D.A.P., and Heinrich was its prophet! Therefore, would Lanny come to his home some evening and meet his wife and one of his friends? Lanny said he would be happy to do so; he had just received a letter from Rick, saying that the German vote had made a great impression in England, and if Lanny would send a bunch of literature and some of his own notes as to the state of mind of the country, Rick could write an article for one of the weeklies. Lanny wanted to help his friend, and thought the English people ought to understand what the new movement signified. This, of course, was right down Heinrich’s alley; he volunteered to assemble a load of literature—and even to have the article written and save Rick the bother!

Lanny left his wife in a comfortable family bridge game while he drove out to the suburbs toward Potsdam, where the young official lived in a modest cottage. Heinrich had chosen himself a proper deutsches Mädel with eyes as blue as his own, and according to the Nazi-Nordic principles they had set to work to increase the ruling race. They proudly showed two blond darlings asleep in their cribs, and one glance at Ilsa Jung was enough to inform Lanny that another would soon be added. There was a peculiarity of the Nazi doctrine which Lanny had observed already among the Italian Fascists. Out of one side of their mouths they said that the nation had to expand in order to have room for its growing population, while out of the other side they said that their population must be increased in order that they might be able to expand. In the land of Mussolini this need was known as sacro egoismo, and Lanny had tried in vain to puzzle out why a quality which was, considered so offensive in an individual should become holy when exhibited by a group. He hoped that a day might come when nations would be gentlemen.