What am I here for, anyhow?
I'm summoned for appearance' sake,
To nod approval at the Chief, but take
No further part in his one-man pow-wow.

My job is just to sit, it seems,
And act the silent super's _rôle_,
The while I wish myself, with all my soul,
Safe back in one or more of my hareems.

I'd let the Conference go hang;
Any who likes can have my pew
And play at peace-talk with this pirate crew,
WILLIAM and KARL and FERDIE--what a gang!

Our Chairman wants to save his skin
And (curse this train!) to cook a plan
For Germany to pouch what spoils she can--
All very nice; but where do I come in?

At best I'm but the missing link
Upon his Berlin-Baghdad line;
This is the senior partner's show, not mine;
Will he consult my feelings? I don't think.

If Russia's gain should mean my loss,
He'll wince at Teuton schemes cut short,
But for my grief, expelled from my own Porte,
Will he care greatly? Not one little toss.