Wyoming's Hero

With tears in his voice, if not in his eyes, the senectissimus of all U. S. Senators stood up and pleaded with snarling filibusterers for the passage of his Second Deficiency bill, dearer to him than all investigating of slush funds. He, Francis Emroy Warren of Wyoming, 82, Chairman of the Senate Appropriations Committee, had made this plea more than 20 times during the 40 1/2-hour Reed v. Reed wrangle. He had spent half of one night on a Senate lounge when he should have been home in bed. His snow-white moustache drooped; his eyes were sunken, bleary; his voice quavered. Somebody said: "I object." His last plea was dashed to the floor like a broken relic. Like an angered god, he lifted his voice above the Senate din, pronounced a commandment: "Every Senator can't have his own damned way."

But filibusters heeded commandments no more than deficiency bills.

If there is a man in the U. S today who merits the title of Grand Old Man," it is Mr. Warren. His fame goes back to the Civil War when he was awarded the Congressional Medal of Honor for gallantry on the field of battle; back to the '70s when he, astride a horse, was making Wyoming something more than an Indian playground; back to the '80s when he was Governor of the territory; back to 1890 when he first entered the U. S. Senate. ... And perhaps in 1931, when his present term expires, he will be guiding his last annual three-billion-dollaf flock of appropriation bills through a stormy Senate with the skillful hand that gave him the subtitle of "The Greatest Shepherd since Abraham."

Francis Emroy Warren--hero, rancher, pioneer, lawgiver, financier, shepherd, Grand Old Man.