“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?”