“I would stick to my point--but the King, the Crown Prince, the women who force their sentimental views upon them, and certain secret European connections--I can deal with those in front of me--but those who stand behind me, behind my back, or rather who weigh upon me so that I cannot breathe!--people for whom the German cause and German victories are not the main question; but, rather, their anxiety to be praised in English newspapers. Ah, if one were but the Landgrave!--I could trust myself to be hard enough. But, unfortunately, one is not the Landgrave.[16] Quite recently, in their maudlin solicitude for the Parisians, they have again brought forward a thoroughly foolish scheme. Great stores of provisions from London and Belgium are to be collected for the Parisians. The storehouses are to be within our lines, and our soldiers are merely to look at them, but not to touch them, however much they may themselves suffer from scarcity and hunger. These supplies are to prevent the Parisians starving when they shall have capitulated. We, in this house, it is true, have enough, but the troops are on short commons; yet they must suffer in order that the Parisians, when they learn that supplies have been collected for them, may postpone their capitulation till they have eaten their last loaf and slaughtered their last horse. I shall not be consulted, otherwise I’d rather be hanged than consent to it. But I am, nevertheless, responsible. I was imprudent enough to call attention to the famine that must ensue. It is true I mentioned it merely to the diplomatists. But they have thus become aware of the fact. Otherwise it would not have occurred to them.” Swiss cheese having been handed round, some one raised the question whether cheese and wine went well together. “Some descriptions with certain wines,” was the Minister’s decision. “Not strong ones like Gorgonzola and Dutch cheese, but others are all right. I remember that at the time when people drank hard in Pomerania--two hundred years ago or more--the good folks of Rammin were the greatest topers in the country. One of them happened to get a supply of wine from Stettin, which was not quite to his liking. He complained accordingly to the merchant, who replied: ‘_Eet kees to Wien, Herr von Rammin, deen smeckt de Wien wie in Stettin ook to Rammin._’” (Low German: “Eat cheese to your wine, good sir, from Rammin, then the wine will taste as good in Rammin as it does here in Stettin.”)