h., was that he was the 75th lineal descendent of confucius. like any normal stupid american, i burst out laughing. until i was informed in all seriousness that they do keep track of these things in china. a sweet man, he was rather more impressive than his reign, but his highly ambitious wife, the eldest of the siblings, pushed and prodded until she got him up to the position of minister of finance, displacing her brother, the economist. anxious to be loved, h. h. happily supplied with all the money he wanted for his army. there have been two major books written about madame chiang when i started mine. one was by emily hahn, an extraordinary writer and journalist who publish something like, excuse me, 50 books and wrote innumerable articles for "the new yorker." the story goes that han had gone to china where, like a lot of other people, she became addicted to opium. john gunther, a friend of hers, and author of the inside books, i don't know if anybody remembers inside asia, inside europe, inside were ever. anyway, suggested that hahn write a