disasters, that not one of us can evoke without trembling the memory of
those events, whose lurid light served to open the eyes of the blindest.

"Understand this," Nefftzer was wont to insist (before 1870), "we can
never wish that Prussia should be victorious without running the risk of
bringing about our own defeat; we must not yield to any of her
allurements nor even smile at any of her wiles."

If the people of Paris applaud Wagner, he who believed himself to be the
genius of victorious Germany personified, it can only be in truth that
Paris has forgotten. And in that case, there will only be left, of those
who rightly remember, but a few mothers, a few widows, a few old
campaigners and your humble servant!

So that we may recognise each other in this world's wilderness, we will
wear in our button-holes and in our bodices that blue flower which grows
in the streams of Alsace-Lorraine, the forget-me-not!

And we shall vanish, one by one, disappearing with the dying century,
_that is, unless some surprise of sudden war, such as one must expect
from William II, should cure us of our antiquated attitude_.

Need I speak of these rumours of disarmament, wherewith the German Press
now seeks to lull us, rumours which spread the more persistently since,
at last, we have come to believe in our armaments?

"Germany is satisfied and seeks no further conquests," says William II.
But does it follow that we also should be satisfied with the bitter
memories of our defeats, and resolved that, no matter what may happen, we
shall never object to Prussia's victories? I never forget that William