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EX-KING OF AFGHANISTAN

Blow then, bugles of welcome ! History is being
made, and a man of the hills, a true Afghan, has come
into the territory of his dreams. The destroyers are
wheeling into line for his honour. The aeroplanes,
fighters and bombers and scouts, are circling in mass
formation for his delight. The red carpets are down,
and the rifles come to the " present" with a slap, for
a King of the East. Kings, queens, and princes are
summoned to meet him. Cash is running short, but here
is another thousand for the poor of the West. Blow,
bugles of welcome !

So he crosses the Channel, the destroyer pitching and
burying her nose in English waters. The cruisers are
in line ahead, there in his honour. The 'planes keep up
their ceaseless zooming accompaniment to this great
day. Amanullah quells the tumult of pride in his
breast, and when he goes down the gangway, meets the
Prince of Wales, treads the red carpet to the special
train, and acknowledges the frenzied cheers of the
English crowd this 13th afternoon of March, 1928, the
newspaper men say that he is " every inch a King."

He is not. He is a slightly swelled-headed but
thoroughly healthy Eastern boy at a huge picnic.

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