Comes Caillaux

The departure from France of Finance Minister Joseph Caillaux, who this week marched down the gangplank of the Paris into Manhattan after his first trans-Atlantic crossing, was marked by felicitous farewells.

Hailed by friends as "second Columbus," he replied modestly:

"It is too flattering to be compared to the great navigator."

At an informal luncheon with Prime Minister Baldwin, who was the first man to make a European debt settlement with the U. S it was rumored that M. Caillaux picked up valuable pointers as to how to deal with Americans. "We discussed crossword puzzles," admitted Baldwin. Said M. Caillaux: I am going to America to make a Gentleman's Agreement . . Gentlemen, you know, make only offers which they know can be fulfilled."

Departing from la Gare St.-Lazare for le Havre, M. Caillaux's glistening bald head bent again and again over the hands of fair admirers.

Sailing on the Paris, M. Caillaux was intercepted and honored by a British squadron off Plymouth. In the early dawn his terrified fellow passengers: rushed scantily clad upon deck. "Est-ce encore la guerre?" they demanded, wild-eyed. It was M. Caillaux receiving a thundering British salute of 21 guns.

At Geneva and at Paris diplomats dropped a pregnant word or two anent M. Caillaux's mission. "Set all question of figures and barter aside," said they. "If America expects any sum to be repaid by France over a period of 60 or 70 years, she is deluded. Grey-bearded men, yet unborn will not pay taxes to America in 1980. There was no Italy 60 years ago; will there be a France in 60 more? Sixty-two years ago the dollar was worth only a franc; it may be worth less than that in another 62."