“And I of Agriculture?” asked Conrads.
“Very good, too.”
“Marbaise for Finance.”
“And whom shall we have for Home Affairs?”
“It seems to me that wouldn’t be a bad thing for you, tailor,” put in Bloemstein, addressing Councillor Holzert.
“I have no objection,” replied the latter; “but I’d just like to say something too.”
“Councillor Holzert will now address the meeting.”
A sudden silence fell on the assembly; all were straining their ears to hear what thoughts had arisen in the tailor’s shrewd brain. Speaking slowly, and emphasising every word, he began,—
“We must have stamps made—big stamps, with your head on them, Bloemstein; and then we’ll send a letter, with a stamp like that on it, you understand, not to the Emperor of Prussia, but to Bismarck, because, after all, he’s the fellow that does everything; and you must write in that letter, just to rile him, that we are going to let all the priests and Jesuits he has driven out come freely into our country.”
“But only on condition that they brew no beer,” interrupted the brewer, Klessens.