With the new tactics have come stronger positions. The Carter and Brown people say he's changed his tune, that Kennedy supports things he couldn't pronounce two months ago. Kennedy's organizers disagree. "Sometimes you change positions because of the dynamics of the world," says Gerard Dougherty, the Boston lawyer who's been shipped out to run the Kennedy effort in Illinois.

At Georgetown, Kennedy lashed out at Carter's inflation and energy record, supporting what he terms "last resort" moves of gas rationing and wage and price controls. More recently, Kennedy "defined" his position on nuclear power, coming out in favor of a moratorium on new plant construction. To audiences across the state, he proudly displays his own energy plan, which stresses conservation, solar and low-head hydro power.

In New Hampshire, however, most voters care about guns and butter. "I've got sons that are draft age," one woman tells me, "and I don't want them fighting for gas and oil." Kennedy says the president shouldn't be re-elected "just because he happened to be standing there when his foreign policy fell apart." Kennedy opposes draft registration; Kennedy supports a random system to draft both men and women. He supports the president's requested 3-per-cent hike in defense appropriations but draws the line elsewhere; he is for developing the concept of the MX missile, but not deploying it, for a foreign policy that stresses preventive measures and not one that "says Soviet troops are unacceptable and then accetpts them"

***

Ted Kennedy is running two hours behind schedule -- the norm, not the exception -- when he is introduced by the head of the Stevens High School Committee for Kennedy. The last stop was Claremont Senior Congress Park, where, voice rising, face redenning and hands gripping the podium, he ticked off his record of pushing aid to the elderly, all to a crowd that featued not one natural non-gray hair. Now, he's pitching the young people in the high school auditorum.

The kids have been sitting still for a couple of hours. When Kennedy tells them they ought to have a "chahnce" to enter the political arena, his Boston Brahmin accent draws more than a few murmurs. Kennedy raises his voice when he talks about the programs that he really cares about. Like national health care. The voice booms, "Every member of the United States Congress goes to the Senate dispensary and gets their little health care needs taken care of in full, and we don't pay a cent for it." The crowd quiets down. "One out of seven of you are going to die of cancer," he warns. But the kids aren't really listening. They are turning to their neighbors, counting groups of seven and picking out which one of them it will be