The State Department hurries it on to me--very properly; every man's right must be guarded and defended--a right to get his cargo to market, a right to get on a steamer at Queenstown, a right to have his censored telegram returned, any kind of a right, if he have a right.

Then the Department, not wittingly, I know, but humanly, almost inevitably, in the great rush of overwork, sends his 'demands' to me, catching much of his tone and apparently insisting on the removal of his grievance as a right, without knowing all the facts in the case.

The telegrams that come to me are full of 'protests' and 'demands'-- protest and demand this, protest and demand that.

A man from Mars who should read my book of telegrams received during the last two months would find it difficult to explain how the two governments have kept at peace.

It is this serious treatment of trifling grievances which makes us feel here that the exactions and dislocations and necessary disturbances of this war are not understood at home.
"I assure you (and there are plenty of facts to prove it) that this Government (both for unselfish and selfish reasons) puts a higher value on our friendship than on any similar thing in the world.