At Metternich's Desk

In Austria's historic Foreign Office on the Ballhaus Platz in Vienna last week, marched Dr. Ernst Streeruwitz. onetime cavalryman and businessman, to succeed. bald, eagle-beaked Monsignor Ignaz Seipel, retiring leader of the Catholic Christian-Socialist Party, as Austria's chancellor.

Stilling all fears that the Cavalryman-Chancellor would not be democratic and hard working, this entrance march took place at 9 a. m., an unheard-of hour for an Austrian Chancellor to go to work. Still more heretical was the presence of a green-aproned dicnstmann (porter) who stumbled behind Chancellor Streeruwitz carrying a large typewriter shrouded in oilcloth.

The typewriter was dumped upon the Chancellor's desk, the same desk that once served that crafty dandy, Prince Clemens Wenzel Lotharvon Metternich, Napoleon's adversary. Chancellor Streeruwitz sat down behind his machine and soon began typing out letters with his. own fat, firm fingers.

Never in the memory of the oldest attache of the Chancellery had such a scene occurred. Ever since typewriters were invented, the Chancellor of Austria has dictated letters to his secretary. The secretary has then redictated the letters to his secretary. The secretary's secretary has typed the letters for the secretary, who has then borne them to the Chancellor to sign. Unconscious or impatient of this ritual, Chancellor Streeruwitz pecked and rattled away on Prince Metternich's desk all morning, frowned when he read that evening's newspapers.