SWITZERLAND: Long-Distance Call . ..

SWITZERLAND Long-distance Call…

Ever since the end of World War II the situation on the Franco-Swiss border has been touchy. Last week it was downright itchy. Over the long-distance telephone from the Swiss frontier station of Le Locle came the stationmaster’s voice, cold and hollow. “French fleas,” it said, “are infiltrating our border in the clothing of French railroad workers. It is a veritable invasion.”

“French fleas?” came the equally chill voice of the publicity man for the French Société Nationale des Chemins de Fer. “Has some new method, then, been discovered for establishing the paternity of a flea? Do these fleas, perhaps, speak with a French accent? To speak of French fleas? Monsieur, is that not going, quite possibly, a bit too far?”

The far-off voice resumed its complaint. “Fleas,” it said loftily, “have not been known in Le Locle for many years. When the war ended, arrangements were made for French train crews to use the Swiss bunkhouse. Promptly the trouble began. First there were two fleas, then there were four, then they came by the hundreds.”

The voice on the other end was suave: “Even if one accepts, tacitly, you understand, a certain measure of responsibility. it remains impermissible to speak of French fleas.”

From Switzerland the voice was angry. “We want measures taken against re-infestation.”

The voice from Paris was curt: “If they are French fleas, Monsieur, they will soon return to France. Swiss skins are too near the surface for our fleas.”