(As delivered in Chicago.)

I just asked a policeman the quickest way to the hospital. He told me to go down to Jefferson street and yell hurrah for the czar. John D. Rockefeller wants to go to the front, but I don’t think he’ll do much for the country. When the officer says advance he’ll raise the price of gasoline.

You know all that peace talk is over. The peace party crawled into a hole and pulled the hole in after them—they’re afraid of the draft.

Some men are born soldiers, others develop into fighters after they marry. I’ve been in four battles.

The very first night I was married my wife broke this news to me. “You know, dear, I can’t dress myself,” so I got her a French maid; and, “I can’t drive my own car,” so I got her a chauffeur. Then she said: “You know I walk in my sleep,” so I had to get her a night watchman.

Uncle Sam is preparing all right in a hundred different ways we know nothing about. A man who comes up to you on the street may be an officer. If you get a drink in Kansas City, well, that’s secret service.

It certainly was pretty windy around the Masonic temple today. You know two girls were passing; one had red, white and blue stockings on and the other green; they were going in the opposite direction. I didn’t know which to look at, but decided to see America first.

Sousa and I got together a couple of seasons ago. His band was going to play my songs. I met him the other day just as I was going into a saloon. He said: “Nat, my band of 300 men will accompany you.” I said: “That’s all right with me, Phil, but do you think there’ll be room?”