"Patience! I preach manure."
Again at the dreadful word the ladies leapt.
"It is," he said solemnly, his eyes glistening with enthusiasm, "the foundation of a nation's greatness."
"I hadn't thought of it like that," said Ingeborg, seeing that he waited.
"But on what then does a State depend in the last resort?"
She was afraid to say, for there seemed to be so many possible answers.
"Naturally on its agriculture," said the pastor, with the slight irritation of one obliged to linger over the obvious.
"Of course," said the pliable Ingeborg, trained in acquiescence.
"And on what does agriculture depend in the last resort?"
Brilliantly she hazarded "Manure."