The sun., 1918-12-15

lern to remain enthroned until some
little time after Fritz son OF Wilhelm,
had succeeded his father.
This conclusion is not to be escaped
after hearing of Fritz as the American
whom he called Ragtime knew him,
and, from that same American, OF
Fritz as Fritz was known to his valet
Felix, in whom the American, Rag
time, found freely conhding friend.
But ION this Ragtime insists the
weapon Of that justice would have
been no positive force, for evil or for
good or for aught between, In Fried
rich Wilhelm Hohenzollern's char
acter. Force was not in him. Char
acter was not. A cipher, Ragtime
solemnly pronounces him--to-day a
cipher with the rim knocked Off.
Ragtime for fifteen years on the
Continent was leader Of the American
y Ragtime trio of two mandolins and a
banjo, who used to play the gilded re-
sorts OF the capitals, the fashionable
coasts and in some seasons even
Cairo. His name is Edgar NJ. Moore.
= He Is out OF the music business now
and home again; he is and always was
typical Yankee. 100 per cent. pure by
the Roosevelt test, and since 1918 he
has been more particular than he could
be in Ragtime days about the royal
company he keeps. This last, to avoid
all mistakes, is an allusion to that
same Fritz, whom he once knew well.
Analysed in Simplest Language.
The best attestation of the genu-
ineness of Moore's reconstruction of
Fritz is the moving, breathing, realis-
tic life of it. You see, you sample
Fritz, you make his unlovely ac-
quaintance, as Moore talks. In Kip
ling's phrase the character stands on
Fits feet, and Moore's talk is wholly
innocent of conscious, calculating art
Only the invention OF a master could
have begun to be so convincing.
And what a Fritz it Is, What an
heir to empire IT was, In the Arthurian
legend Is knight whose sable armor
h patterned in white with the visage
and frame of Death-patterned like
the busby OF a Deaths Head Hussar,
and this knight makes all champions
quail before the sheer frightfulness
appropriate wordD of his aspect, I'M
til a simple hero dares to combat and
overthrow him. and inside the casque
they find a weakling. dead. No bad
symbol, he, Of Germany at the collapse.
the Germany whose submarines have
turned out to have been a vicious bluff
all through, and her boosted morale a
shell.
But he serves still better for the
Clown Prince Fritz. We thought we
knew the fellow. We caricatured his
4 weak profile and made fun of his gen.
eralship and his frittering vanity. AS
Ragtime says. no American ever really
sized him up. Americans have sup
posed that he knew little of military
science and plumed himself on know
ing a great deal-that his pompous
plumbers in his cups caused the slaugh-
ter Of German divisions at Verdun
Ragtime affrms that not even such
blunders were in him. and as for cups
that he lacked the-well, the backbone
ever once to get drunk royalty in his
futile life.
We have ridiculed a man. q male hu-
man of some sort beneath the skull
and crossbones on the busby.. What
actually was situated there instead
will be judged from Moore's remin-
iscences; 1t is time to stop introducing
Moore and let him have a hearing.
Not Even n Military TyrO.
Military science!" he snorts why
IL any one had formed a regiment for
him in platoons he couldn't by his own
commands have done so much as
march it down a perfectly straight
street, let alone having halted or
turned it If he found a stone wall al
the end, Training? Nobody could
train him. He was raiiroaded through
Bonn and through the military col
Ieges.
"Militarist? Tin soldier? tell you
he hated a uniform-wouldn't have
one on when he could avoid II. What
he liked was to lounge in his Eng
fish tweeds. At first meeting you'd
have taken him-his English is per-
feet, absolutely clean of accent-for a
phenomenally worthless specimen OF a
low class English squire from the
countryside. He was what Americans
used to call an Anglomaniac. He
never dreamed of posing as a Ger
man warrior Of blood and iron; he
preferred to ape the English Johnny
the nut as they call 'em in Lon
don, the chap who used to hang
around the stage door OF the Gaiety
"He wouldn't drink beer said he
loathed 1t. He wouldn't drink cham
payne. When he was in Berlin you
could always find him nights in one
OF two or three OF the most eX-
pensive night life cafes. the Blue
menthal for instance. Champagne at
90 marks was the only drink they'd
serve you there-perhaps you could
have got cheaper drinks by making a
row about it. But not Fritz. He stuck
10 his whiskey pegs. and OF course
they had to please him, He said beer
made people fat, that that was why
his countrymen had no figures, anC
that he preferred to keep his. He'd
never eat very much for fear OF los
ing his slim waist-you've noticed
what he has just said about that in
Holland? It's perfectly true, and
characteristic OF him. never knew
of his taking pegs enough to make
him drunk. He had a favorlte brand
of whiskey-an English brand, OF
course.
RidicuIed the FatherIand.
And he loved to make fun of Ger
many and the Germans. Doesn't Mark
Twain say somewhere that the trouble