''Long Life!. Long Life!"
The chief mourners at murdered King Alexander's funeral last week brought their own soldiers. The soldiers brought plenty of ammunition for their own rifles. It was that kind of a Balkan funeral, grand and grim. Perhaps never until last week had all Europe escorted to his tomb with so much pomp and precaution a monarch only four generations in descent from a swineherd.
The French bombing planes of maximum size thundering in circles all day over Belgrade made sad-eyed French President Albert Lebrun feel safer. M. le Président...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
