GOOD ELEPHANT

And so it came about: While a million radios were still being tuned in to catch the proceedings: while campaign managers were still figuring with frantic pencils the delegates claimed and the delegates secured: even before the chairman stood upon the platform and delivered the quadrennial inveighment against smoking, the issue was settled. Cold water, floods of it poured over the fireworks, and the melancholy farmers could not even rouse a dull "siss!" for all their trying. The anti-Hoover scandal sheets were futile and with no goal before them, they can only fill wastebaskets or memory books.

The long rollcall, then is destined to be assumed but once today, and that only as a formality, the mere assurance of triumph already won. The cryptic "I do not choose" was altered just in time to "I will not", and the vague possibilities of a dark-horse third term are checked, once for all. And is it not better so? All the squirming and writhing of the politicians could mean but one thing; that, though they knew the voters' choice, they did not wish to obey it; that if holes were not already there, through which the machine men might slip, they would dig them. Their chance is gone now, and the part is able to present to the public, without further delay, Nominee Hoover.

One party at least has stopped sidestepping. What will happen at Houston is still a question. It may be that some bright angel will be kind enough to lay a guiding hand on the shoulders of the Democrats, and lead them from the maze into the light of public demand. If so, there will occur the amazing spectacle of the two parties opposing in one and the same campaign their two outstanding men, and not dodging with compromise candidates that do not satisfy the parties, the delegates, or the nation. An amazing spectacle, certainly, and one that promises somewhat more government by the people than that often-mouthed phrase usually means.