Canonibus Dawsiensis

Pleased with the popularity of his naval reductions conferences (see col. 1), U. S. Ambassador Charles Gates Dawes, after four years in the seclusion of the U. S. Vice-Presidency, continued to create publicity for Disarmament and himself. P: He talked some more about why he will serve no alcoholics in his London embassy: "I never made it a practice to serve liquor in my home in the States, and see no reason to change now." Other U. S. diplomats abroad wondered what all the excitement was about. Alcoholics are never served in the American Embassy at Oslo or Copenhagen, while most of the U. S. diplomats in the Balkans are teetotalers.

P: He went to a dinner where the Prince of Wales, introducing him, said: "The General describes himself as a stranger. He just told me at dinner he was so strange that when he took his seat at the table and asked his neighbor's name the latter replied, 'I am Jellicoe.'"* General Dawes grinned and puffed his hubblebubble pipe (christened by the British press "Old Underslung"). Edward of Wales tactfully produced a pipe from his own coattails, borrowed some of the Dawesian tobacco.

P: He appeared at the last and most brilliant court of the season in attire which attracted even more attention than the blazing massive diamonds on Queen Mary's stately bosom. Not since the late, lantern-jawed Col. George Harvey called down the sarcasm of the U. S. press by reverting to them in 1921, has a U. S. Ambassador to England failed to wear silk knee-breeches to Court. Ambassador Dawes, Chicago hustler, went in his none-too-neat dress suit with long trousers. Next day he read with relish in London's conservative Morning Post:

"More to show the honor in which the Crown is held, as well as to conform to usage and tradition, they [those who attend the court] decked themselves in accustomed garb. Shall any call them sycophants or mountebanks? Not at all. . . . We do not confuse dependence with courtesy, or underrate the value of continued custom.

"But in all the throng there was an observed exception. General Dawes . . . maintained intact his trousers. No doubt this addiction to trousers is a personal foible. Shall any then blame General Dawes? . . Of course not. . . . Let us more properly pay a tribute to the personal courage which consorts so well with his military rank, for it needs valor to become voluntarily the target of every glance."

P: Ambassador Dawes was again the target of every glance at Oxford's musty Sheldonian Theatre. In a black velvet hat and the scarlet gown and hood of a Doctor of Civil Law, he sat on the platform while the Public Orator of Oxford University, Dr. Arthur Blackburne Poynton, presented him as a "Missionary of peace and harmony among Nations."

He received his diploma from Viscount Grey of Falloden, Chancellor of the University, statesman, bird-lover, fly-caster. In presenting the diploma Viscount Grey recited a long discourse in Latin ripe with many a classical pun. Myopic, he could not read the speech, was forced to memorize it. Toward the end his memory failed.

"Wait a bit," said Chancellor Grey. He concentrated for a moment, then continued: "General Dawes . . . has returned after peace to help with advice those interested in repairing the damages of war. Such thoughts are inappropriate however, since nobody at this peaceful meeting today bothers how much anyone has or owes, nor are even the grammarians involved at the moment in canonibus Dawsiensis generalis [the canons of General Dawes]."

*John Rushworth Jellicoe, Earl of Jellicoe, was Admiral of the British Grand Fleet during the first half of the War. He received the title Viscount Jellicoe of Scapa, in 1918, in honor of his Wartime naval base at Scapa Flow off north Scotland.