“Now, let me give you a pointer or two on getting hold of the country districts. We’re streaky on nationalities out through this State. There’s a point to play for. Get after their feelings for the home country with a tactful editorial or a bit of translated matter now and then if you can lay your hands on it. Tickle their little vanities. That’s what I do on my speaking tours. If it’s a Swedish community, I tell ’em the Scandahoovians are the backbone of the Middle West. In a German district--and the State is thick with ’em--I boost German efficiency, the system to which the rest of the world goes to school.” “Speaking of Germans _and_ schools,” remarked Robson; “I’m told that they don’t even teach in English in some of the country districts. I’ve been thinking of starting a campaign on that, one of these days. Americanization--that ought to be a good slogan.” “Off it, my boy!” said the Senator emphatically. “Hara-kiri is cheaper. Nobody is so touchy as your German-American on the subject of language and race. Don’t butt into a stone wall.” “Wymett had a pet theory that Germany is getting ready for a world-war and the German-Americans are already at their propaganda to influence this country.” “Bosh! I never could quite make out whether Wymett was more crazy than crooked, or _vice versa_.” “Just the same, I’ve noticed that quite a little reprint stuff boosting Germany drifts into this office. Anecdotes about the Kaiser and that sort of thing.” “Print ’em! Print ’em all. It’ll make the paper solid just where you most need support.” “So I do, some of ’em, on their merits. It’s good stuff when fillers are needed. Only, when the propaganda side is too plain, I can it.” “Get your mind off this propaganda notion,” pleaded his adviser. “The Germans are the best element of our citizenship to-day, and any man or institution that goes up against them is _through_. Some lunatics are trying to make a political issue of it. Magnus Laurens is. And they’re talking of running him for Governor next time, because they think they’ll need a respectable figurehead rather than one of the old, discredited gang to beat me with. Lord! I’d ask nothing better than to have Laurens against me, with his crank Know-Nothing conservatism that he calls Americanism.” “I liked Mr. Laurens,” said Jeremy. “You won’t when you’ve fought him as long as I have. Speaking of Germans, do you know Emil Bausch?” “Only by sight.” “He’s president of the Fenchester Deutscher Club and a mighty good friend of mine. He wants to get in touch with you.” “He called once, but I was out.” “Bausch is a little ponderous at first, but he’s all right when you get used to his ways. And he’s a power among the Germans. Don’t forget that.” “Between you and Wymett and Eli Wade I’m not likely to forget the Germans,” laughed Jeremy. “Wade? Poor chap. That was an unfortunate thing, that row of his. Well, he’s good on the feet, but weak in the head. Do you know Milliken, his crony?”