“From whom? Embree? Never mind,” added Laurens, smiling. “You need n’t answer. Remember our conversation about Deutschtum in the schools?” “Yes.” “This is it.” “As this bill was explained to me, it is n’t at all the measure you described in outline.” “Not on the surface. They’ve changed it. But it’s even worse in intent.” “You’ve made a study of it?” “They asked me to sign it. I refused.” “Who asked you?” “In confidence, Robert Wanser.” “Why, he was one of the leaders in the movement for your nomination.” “As he took pains to remind me.” “Is this likely to be made a political issue?” “I don’t think so. Not in the party sense. The German crowd want to push the bill through as quietly as possible.” “That’s natural. Once they get their system fastened on the schools--” “It’s there to stay.” “I guess I’ll get back to the office, Mr. Laurens. I want to get in touch with our reporter at the hearing.” Olin, the reporter in question, abruptly ceased yawning his head off upon receipt of instructions to follow closely the representations made for the bill. His story, edited by Jeremy himself with illuminating side touches, turned that innocent-seeming measure inside out and revealed some interesting phenomena on the inner side. One remark of Magnus Laurens--“I got my first schooling in the Corner School-House and I want to see it stay as American as it was in my day”--stuck in Jeremy’s mind. Out of it he constructed an editorial on the Corner School-House as the keystone of Americanism, never for an instant foreboding that the phrase would become the catchword of a bitter campaign. The first effect of the editorial was to bring Embree around to the Club at dinner-time to find Jeremy. “What on earth did you make that break for?” cried the harassed statesman. “Break? It wasn’t a break. That bill means more than you think.” “It means nothing serious. Or it would n’t have, if you had n’t made an issue of it. Now, the Lord knows what we’re in for!” “An open discussion is my guess. That was the object of the editorial.” “Oh, you’ll get that! If that were all--or half!” “We have n’t killed the bill, have we?” asked the editor hopefully. “No. But it will have to be cut and pruned a good deal, to meet arguments.” “Will that hurt your feelings?” “I care nothing about the bill. It’s only a sop to the harmless vanity of the Germans. But you’ve got them down on you again. And they blame me for it.” “_Do_ they! Why?” The Senator laughed in a half-embarrassed way. “Well, you know, Jem, I’m credited with having some influence with The Guardian. I wish I had half I’m credited with.” “You mean that you ‘re supposed to control the paper’s policies.” “Don’t get disturbed over it. I can’t help it.” “Nor can I, apparently,” returned the editor, frowning. “People absolutely refuse to believe that a man is responsible for his own paper--except when there’s something to kick on.” “What are you going to do now about the bill?”