In this work of restoration, we were told, our women voters and
legislators would play a leading part. What part are they in truth
playing? Their main object apparently is still further to embitter the
Drink question, although if they would only put a little more bitter
into our national beverage they might help to lubricate matters. Is it
not a significant fact that the slackness evidenced in every phase of
industry manifests itself at a time when it becomes more and more
difficult to get a decent drink? In this respect our progress is not so
much to the dogs as to the cats, who sneak along on the padded paws of
Prohibition.
The crazy conditions to be observed in the industrial world are well
matched by the state of anarchy that prevails in the sphere of the arts.
Take music, for example. I do not lay claim to more than a nodding
acquaintance with Euterpe, and at a classical concert, I am afraid, the
nodding character of the relation becomes especially marked. To me the
sweetest music in the world is the roar of a fifteen-inch gun on a day
when the visibility is good and plentiful.
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