“North Carolina?” says he. “You mean Vermont, don’t you?” “Well I can never keep them states straight,” I says. “I knew it was up in the North somewhere, but what was it He done?” “Well He was raised on a farm.” “All right then that is fine there is still lots of farmers in this country I guess. So why don’t He go up there to the old homestead and get some pictures took while He is pitching the hay?” “You are a little ahead of time,” says Mr. Edgerton. “I am afraid they have still got snow on that homestead up there.” “Well then let Him go shovel the snow it will do just as good.” “He is hardly a husky enough Man for snow-shovelling,” says Mr. Edgerton. “That is all right,” I says, “it don’t take long to get a picture not even a movie,” I says. “The point is that the plain people can see the Spokesman with His coat and collar off and looking like them. I know how it is with my own Pop if he was to see a picture of the Spokesman in a pair of blue overalls and a big wrench in His hand and it was headed the Spokesman mends His own gas pipe up there at the big white house why I know that Pop would vote for Him till the water-pipes bust in hell,” I says. And so then Mr. Edgerton is excited and he says he believes that is the solution of the problem the way for him to get back into favor and put Senator Buttles into the discard. And we go on talking about what is to be in these pictures I can’t remember all we said but it was like that and I may be awful dumb but I honestly thought it was an intellectual conversation. But I have got so interested that I guess I must of forgot to bring Mrs. Edgerton in. Anyhow we have et some soup and we are eating some fish and I am talking hard when suddenly I hears the wife give a sniff and I looks and she is sitting very straight and her face is got bright and it seems she is hopping mad and all of a sudden up she hops with her napkin in her hand and cries, “Oh this is intolerable!” Of course I stares and I says, “Why Mrs. Edgerton!” She says, “You are making a fool of me both of you!” I says bewildered like, “Why ma’am what do you mean?” “You really expect me to believe such rubbish?” she cries. “Well ma’am,” I says. “It may be rubbish but it seems like good political business to me. I don’t understand you at all.” But she only gets redder and madder so that she can hardly talk but only sort of gasp and she says looking at her husband, “To bring her into my home to mock at me! The shame of it!” Says Mr. Edgerton very cold, “You invited her here and you undertook to behave yourself.” “Oh,” she says, “I can’t stand it I can’t stand it!” And suddenly she busts into tears and clasps her napkin to her eyes and rushes out of the room and there the two of us is left staring at each other. “Well Mr. Edgerton,” I says, “I am very much puzzled about this because what have I done?” “You have not done nothing,” he says.