"You see I never had a chance to learn just one thing. I can do many things tolerably well, for I had to do them. I can splice a rope, repair a machine, shingle a house and if necessary build a barn. I can play ragtime on the piano, throw a steer or ride a bucking broncho. I can even make soda biscuits. I am the child of the pioneers, and in order to survive, they had to be jacks of all trades. "I bought a tool in a department store the other day," and he drew it from his pocket. "It can do sixteen things tolerably well, but it isn't worth shucks for any one job, if you want to do it right. That's me." The Herr Director wanted to know what "shucks" meant, and after I laboriously explained it to him and he had handled the patent tool he said: "Your travelling men have come over to Germany and tried to sell us this kind of thing, but they found no market. When we want a gimlet, or a saw, or a coat-hanger we want that one thing and want it as good as it can be made. We marvel at your adaptability, but we are too thorough to be adaptable, and we do not need to be. You Americans will never be able to compete with us until you learn to specialize and do one thing well." We sat long into the night comparing the German and the American Spirit, but there was one phase of the former which the Herr Director clearly demonstrated. There was a religious fervor in his patriotism which the average American lacks. To him his country was not only above himself but beyond everything else on Earth or in Heaven. There often seems something sordid about our patriotism, something connected solely with the individual's well-being. I glory in our sense of liberty, in the opportunity to live unmolested, and in every man's chance to be himself; but I fear we have as yet not learned to value our duty to this country as much as we do our privilege. I am sure there will be no lack of fighters if the country is in danger; but shall we be able to fight the long, exhausting battle which presupposes discipline and subordination? The United States gives much to the individual, more, I think, than any other country; but she has not given intelligently, she has nearly pauperized us all by her beneficence, and has demanded nothing in return, nor even taught us common gratitude. Our children are told that they must love their country, but what that means beyond fighting when it is in danger they know not. That it means to do their work thoroughly, that they must learn to do things well, and exalt the nation by becoming efficient workmen that they may help win their country's battles in the factory, or behind the counter, they do not yet know; and what we have not learned, we cannot teach.