"Sons of France!"

For at least a twelvemonth enemies of Prime Minister Raymond Poincare have confidently prophesied that his Cabinet would fall soon after he should have put the franc back on a gold basis--a deed done last fortnight (TIME, July 2). Even staunchest friends feared, last week, for the grizzled statesman's grip on Power. His famed Cabinet of Sacred Union comprises representatives of parties bitterly opposed, who laid down their political tomahawks solely because of the desperate emergency created by the slithering fall of the franc (TIME, Aug. 2, 1926). Today the paper franc is good as gold; and French politicians have not lost the art of quarrelling. For example, Deputy Oran Molle doubled his fist, in the Chamber lobby, last week, and aimed a blow at Deputy Freissineng, who nimbly ducked, remarking: "Merci, mon ami! But today it is too hot to fight." Soon all Deputies trooped in to hear the Prime Minister set forth the policies of his Cabinet and appeal for a general vote of confidence, which, if refused, would mean his fall. With crispness and power, the plump little man, white-bearded, flashing-eyed, set forth his universally known principles and concluded in smashing style: "The sons of France do not fight at the bedside of their sick mother! In the hour of crisis I grouped about me those who had opposed me. I do not regret my choice. Out of our collaboration and thanks to the yielding now of one side and now of the other sprang a new spirit of confidence and all that that made possible. Today the Cabinet of Sacred Union is more united than ever. We have only one regret--that the same union does not exist in the corridors of the Chamber. We will continue to govern with whatever majority follows us. We desire it to be as large as possible, but we shall be faithful to those who are faithful to us. We will exclude none but those who exclude themselves." Swayed by the bold words, the Chamber voted confidence 455 to 126, fooled prophets.