WANTED: A KING

The president of the United States does not have such a bad time. In has a secretary to write his thanks for the gifts his loving constituents pour in upon him--the first jam from God's cranberry bog, wolf cubs, apple pie, sombreros. His parental cares are lightened by a secret service man who follows his undergraduate son from class to class and within the past few months the "official spokesman" has relieved the president of another responsibility. But he still has to shake hands, and he does it well. Last week he disposed of 1400 lady Republicans in forty-five minutes--less than two seconds per handshake.

America needs a king to do this sort of thing. A king, even a little mouselike man like King George, is not only a decorative but a useful piece of furniture. His personal inconsequence is relieved by gold braid, and medals; he is an artist at laying cornerstones and opening exhibitions, leaving the Prime Minister to govern. He does not have to reward Babbits with the use of the Marines; he can make them peers with opposition from none but the House of Lords--a simpler and cheaper process. And Americans are great royalty lovers. They will greet a queen or a crown prince almost as effusively as a woman who swam twenty-five miles in cold water.

All in all, royalty would be a distinct benefit. Newspaper men would be saved the effort of writing extravagant fiction about a colorless man. The colorless man would not have to expose himself to the twenty-seven diseases transmitted by the finger nails. Perhaps with his new found leisure he might relieve the "official spokesman" of his duties. He might even find time to study foreign affairs.