Trotters

Trot, trot, trot. The moccasined feet of lean brown men covered ground. For 73 hours on end, for 450 miles, a dozen Tuscaroras and two Senecas jogged in relays carrying a little chamois bag holding three white grains of corn. From Fort Niagara, N. Y. to Washington, D. C., at hour intervals runner took the bag from runner, while 13 others followed in a motor bus, waited their turns.

At the Capitol the last sprint began. Bird-Lying-Down carried the precious chamois bag. A crowd gathered at the South Gate of the White House grounds. Wearing loin cloths with disklike reflectors fore and aft, as protection against motor traffic, the 14 braves entered and jogged up the walk. In the silk-walled Blue Room the President received the naked Indians and the three kernels of corn inviting him to attend the peace celebration of the Six Nations at Fort Niagara on Sept. 3. He shook the Redmen's hands and said that he was sorry but he thought he could not get there. Well satisfied, they trotted down the steps from the South Portico and walked a couple of blocks to the Willard Hotel to spend the night.

P: Into the Blue Room at one time or another during the week also trotted Secretary Wallace, Secretary Ickes, Madam Secretary Perkins, Professor George F. Warren, Governor Black of the Federal Reserve (see p. 58), Governor Harrison of the New York Reserve Bank, Acting Relief Administrator Aubrey Williams. Drought Relief Administrator Lawrence Westbrook, AAAdministrator Chester C. Davis, Donald Richberg, General Johnson (see p.11). If any of them had brought anything so simple as a bag of corn, Franklin Roosevelt would have been pleased.

P: The President boarded the Sequoia to spend the weekend talking with Raymond Moley. But even while cruising on the broad Chesapeake, he was not free from disturbing news. The Sequoia's wireless brought it to him: Henry T. Rainey of the snowy locks was dead in St. Louis (see p. 51). The Sequoia's radio sent back the President's words:

"It must always be an occasion of national regret when a public servant who has given the greater part of his life to unselfish service passes away. . . ."

To Franklin Roosevelt, the Speaker's death meant more than the loss of a public servant. It meant the loss of the servant of the New Deal who had the job of keeping a rubber-stamp Congress stamping confirmation on the New Deal's desires. Some questioned the efficiency but none the loyalty of Representative Rainey as stamp handler. These pointed out that he had been given a more stamp-like Congress than any Speaker in recent years and yet he had not prevented the overriding of the President's Veterans veto.

The President himself is the foremost guide of legislation, and the Speaker, if capable, is No. 2. In the 73rd Congress Vice President Garner, rather than Speaker Rainey, was the second most potent fig ure. Nonetheless, the most cold-blooded politician could not take Rainey's passing lightly. The President, truly grieved, an nounced that he would attend Rainey's funeral in Carrollton.

No Congressman was too obscure to issue a eulogy of the dead Speaker. One potent griever was Representative Joseph W. Byrns of Tennessee, majority leader; another Representative William Bankhead of Alabama, Chairman of the potent Rules Committee; a third, Representative John McDuffie, also of Alabama. By normal "right of succession," Leader Byrns should be elected Speaker in January. Mr. McDuffie was an unsuccessful candidate when Rainey was elected in March, 1933. These two, Mr. Bankhead, and perhaps others, will doubtless be candidates for the Speakership again. A many-sided quarrel arousing factional bitterness will not make it any easier for the winning Democrat to manage the House next year.

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