The Birmingham age-herald., 1923-12-23

| with me to Torino tomorrow2"
 "Yes, I had hoped to- | Are you Italian?"
 No, American"
 You speak Italian very we'll" Thank you"
 HAsk me four or five questions"
 "Now?
 "No not now. I will see you to- morrow night on the train. Arrive derci.''
 Good bye" and without a hand 1 shake or friendly gesture of any sort was dismissed. I walked past the two atlases which stood near the door (they made me think of the scene in Boris Godounov" where the czar traces the extent of his domain on the atlas for his son) and out through the maze of waiting rooms l into the street.
 There was no backing out of the thing now. I had asked to be taken on the special train, to interview the Duce, my request had been granted and nothing but an attack of acute appendicitis or pneumonia could save me now
 Guards Try To Bar Way.
 Getting on the train wasn't a sim pie natter 1 had no credentials, no special ticket. Plain clothes men and Fascist guards tried to bar the way but I told them so convincingly that Mussolini was waiting for me that they surrendered.
 l got into first class compart- ment. and as the train pulled out of the station amid the cheers of the select few who had been let into the secret of when the special presi- dential train would leave, l felt that an adventure was beginning. It was dark, o'clock; we were to ride all night and get to Torino at eight the next morning. l sat there staring at my brief case and typewriter and fumbling the sheet of paper in my pocket on which I had written the questions. I have seldom felt as alone as at that moment. l knew that ahead of me, in the other cars, there were ministers and secretaries- and the Duce. But would they remember me? Did anyone know l was there? Wouldn't it be perfectly possible for them to detain my car at some way station during the night and forget all about me? The train rumbled on for ten, fifteen minutes. It was cold and oh, so lonesome. Then the door of my compartment was pushed back and a young man dressed in the black shirt and fez of the new national militia introduced himself.
 Good evening, signorina. I shall be outside in the corridor. If there is anything you wish please call upon me. am at your service. Dinner will be served in the dining car at o'clock"
 That made me feel much. more com fortable. By seven l had powdered my nose, tidied my hair and was ready to venture into the dining car. Trains Lurch Makes Comedy
 The first five minutes were hard. was the only woman in the car (ex- cept the wife of one of the function aries and she was with her husband) and it seemed as if everyone were staring, unmercifuily. Finally one person in the car whom 1 knew had pity on me and joined me. He was the minister of finance, Alberto de Stefani, whom l had interviewed He is a lovable person; handsome head with an abundance of iron gray hair which is supposed to wave back over the forehead but often falls forward In unruiy fashion, prominent nose and chin sharply outlined. and kind blue gray eyes. He invited Edoardo Tore. minister of the railroads, who reminded ne of a college professor l used to like, to join us, and there sat talking, chatting comfortably. humanly with two members of the cabinet. And suddenly I thought of the big chief. Could he be human? When Barone Russo interrupted JUS to announce tfNt the President Gas Mussolini is often called), would sec me for five minutes, felt desperate. I would go, dutifully. ask my five questions, and then run.
 My entrance into the presidential suite was abrupt. The train jerked as I crossed the threshold and stumbled ungracefully right before the Duce. Perhaps that was bit of luck for it made him smile. He was sitting on a couch against the wall Aehind a small square table.
 "Go6d evening. Come here and sit place beside him on the couch. His greeting was friendly and almost cheerful, so much so that I dared ac- cept the infitation and sat right | down beside him.
 Have you brought your ques- tions?" he asked. What Is it you wNnt to know?"
 Awork. Order. Discipline.~ g H
 I began with question number one. What do you consider Fascismo's greatest achievement in It's year of power?"
 He set his mouth, stared ahead thoughtfully, swallowed. and then turned toward me. pointing his fin ger at the pencil I had in my hand as though ordering 1t to write.
 "Fascisn.o has given Italy a new consciousness of work, order and dis cipline." He hammered the words out slowly.
 How has she achieved this~' o O o
 "Why do you ask? America |. not interested in details. She sees only the black shirt In Fascismo. the pie turesque, romantic side. She knows nothing about the fire, spirit and enthusiasm which animate the move ment. She Is a great big child whose imagination Is stirred by the dra- matic outward manifestations of Fascismo. That is all she knows and all she cares.
 Does she know that Italy today is working and producing? That un- employment has been diminished to the minimum in normal times? That of 1900 laws passed in a year many are In force and working admirably? That we have reorganized our army and navy so that they will not be a negligible factor when Italy's affairs are considered? Your pacifistically inclined Americans will not like this but we are proud of it."
 He ended his statement with a def1- nite finality which made 1t hard to