"POTATO DIPLOMACY."

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2762, 4 May 1916, Page 9

"POTATO DIPLOMACY."

THE BERLIN AYOMAN AND THE GRASPING SHOPKEEPER. The "Vowvarts," tlje German Socialist paper, is fond of tciliug,the truth 111 pa table and short stories, which apparuii.tly escape the cj|B at' tip censor (says the . "\Vestniinsti;r , Gazette"). Hero is a little story which it- calls "Potato Diplomacy," which tells more than we might otherwise have learnt about the feelings of the good hoiisfrau when she goes shopping in Berlin: 1 had iy> potatoes in the. house.' For woeks this had been the case. 1 must, however, have potatoes; I cannot live without potatoes.''' With my pucSo 1 went into , the market with the courage of despair in my'lieart. The hist harvest yielded 55 million Zentners, sp : l had a right at least to a couple " of pounds. We arc. potato Croesuses, we Ge,npaus. We possess'this costly iinm, in lull abundance. Why should not I get some;-' With my head in the ajr 1 went through the 1 went from stall to stall —'ihere-i-I could scarcely trust my eyes—stood three sacks lull of potatoes.. M'liy not? "Ten pounds of potatoes," 1 said, suppressing my joy. The trader heard ine when i had'said it three times. Then, without looking at me, he said in an indifferent voice through his teeth, "1 haven't got any." Enraged, I pointed at the sacks, and opened one. "What are these, tlienj* Eli?" "Potatoes," replied the shopman, laconically, "but th.ev are mine. I have just bought them from a passer-by."

•'Whatl" I cried, full of rage, "your potatoes? Yours-'"' "Ves, mine," lie said. "I can stand anything here that belongs to me." . I went on. There was no point in stayi:ig any longer. "Don't waste your time here," said n sympathetic lady to me. "Go to the H Street, to Sehuho's, there are sonje there." 1 dragged my feet to Sdiulw's, where there ought to be potatoes. But I had become sly, and hid my purso under my cloak. "Can,l have some cabbage? 4' I asked in a timid voice. Frau iScliulze took up a cahbago top and plumped it laughing in the t.cnlcs. "Koiir pounds. That means 88 pfennigs, two-and-tweiity pfennigs the liound," she reckoned. This price was iar, far above the official price, but. I kept quiet, for I wanted to get potatoes at any price. And now I bi'ouglit out my purse.

"Potatoes? Oil, yes, I could get you soi.no. 1 Twenty pounds?" That was iust what f wanted. And so 1 got my beloved potatoes. But .not, as the story points cut, until she had paid doublo the price which she ou;slit to have paid for a cahbago. The moral of 'the story is that, you cannot get .what you want in Berlin except by buying something o.lse first nt an exorbitant price. And thus the "Vorwarts," the protector of tlio poor, enjoys its nlqp at the sjrcecjy tradesmen o.f Berlin oiico more, and ridicules the statement pf the nifthorities about abundant'supplies and fixed prices. It must do this in an indirect way, for it may be remembered that recently the editor of the "Vor.warts" was had .up. by the police for creating dissension between the classes. It does not do to say openly what you think in .Berlin.