As we entered the long passage which led to this dining-hall we heard in the distance the strains of “The Internationalé.” Alas, I thought, we are guilty of the rudeness of being late. Not at all! This was simply the orchestra getting itself into form. As we entered, it burst forth again with joyful hilarity. We stood by our seats till the end, and then proceeded to talk to our neighbours. For the third time the band broke into the strain. Some members of our party had strolled in late. It was essential that they should have a royal reception also. We settled down once more. Suddenly everybody started to his feet again. It was “The Internationalé” for the fifth time, sung to welcome the President of the Soviet to his chair. Then came the food, and, at intervals, the speeches. After each speech came “The Internationalé,” and whatever we were doing, eating or speaking, it had to cease until the National Anthem of the world-proletariat, if I may so describe it, had been sung. And a curiously amusing feature of this singing was, that it indicated the degree of approval conferred upon the speech. If the speech were a blood-red revolutionary speech in the recognised style, the whole of the three verses was sung. If the speech were of a quieter pattern, two verses followed. If, as happened in one case, the speech kept close to the facts of the situation and lacked vim, one verse only was its reward. All this may have happened without design, but it happened so. And anyhow, we learnt the tune of “The Internationalé” unforgettably that night, for it was sung whole or in part, exactly seventeen times! “Are you not afraid,” I asked, of a Communist who was near me, “that the people will get tired of that song if you sing it so often? I can imagine nothing more tiresome to the ears of our king than the public prayer for his salvation put up for him every time he pays a public call.” “Why, yes,” he replied, “the people are a little tired of it; but it is necessary to supersede the old National Anthem and such songs as are associated with the old order, and instil into them revolutionary melodies. It is good propaganda.” Shades of the departed! Will the music of the country also be sacrificed to the insatiable spirit of Karl Marx? THE INTERNATIONALÉ [Music: 1. Arise, ye starvelings, from your slumbers, Arise, ye criminals of want, For reason in revolt now thunders, And at last ends the age of cant. Now away with all superstitions, Servile masses, arise! arise! We’ll change forthwith the old conditions, And spurn the dust to win the prize. CHORUS. Then, comrades, come rally, the last fight let us face, The Internationalé, Unites the human race, Then, comrades, come rally, The last fight let us face, The Internationalé Unites the human race.]