"A-Hoy Mrs Astor...We are about to sail by Savannah Georgia this late afternoon. I have also enlisted the 164 Cavalry of some 1500 troops that are marching though Atlanta as we speak General von Lipshits is leading the march.
My ground intelligences said they have spotted Mrs Fish hiking up that torn mud drenched hoop skirt and running for the Louisiana swamp."
THAT was what the carrier parrot returned with.
Dear, dear. I must send my ambassador, Jose, back to the bed where he does his most diplomatic work in, and step in myself. A woman of my social magnitude, I mean a woman of my social size, must intercede when times call. Mrs. Stuyvesant-Fish must stop rattling that rusted cum-stained, sword of hers, and The Countess du Barry must stop the decrepit Newport fleet from trying to maintain afloat with more gin than gun powder.
I hereby announce that I will broker a deal between the North and the South. I do this for no gain for myself, but for the sailors and gardeners who will suffer; not that the three of us will miss a happy hour or a glass of port during this "Guns of August" affair.
Meanwhile, I will, without much celebration, accept the Noble Peace Prize. It is the least I can do. I always take the high ground.....or at least to maneuvered the upper gutter.