Poker Players

Morning after last week's Jackson Day Dinner in 2,000 cities (see p. 11), James Aloysius Farley awakened in Washington to discover that the party he bosses had eaten itself out of its $400,000 deficit in a single night. Invigorated by the news, Boss Farley hurried to the Willard Hotel to put some iron into his fellow members of the Democratic National Committee, gathered for the first big war talk of the 1936 campaign. From his opening remarks, it was clear that Boss Farley still had political money on his mind.

"Our Opponents," he gravely warned, "will make this the bitterest and certainly the dirtiest political struggle that any of us here can remember. The assault will be financed with the largest slush fund on record, contributed for the most part by those who have neither public conscience nor private scruple, who are only interested in getting back inordinate privileges." Chairman Farley braced himself for Republican "perversion of the facts," "outright lies." "foul whisperings." "We must work." continued Boss Farley, "for a victory so overwhelming as to make it plain forever that democracy is the faith of our people and that loyalty to a great President cannot be broken down even by a flood of money!"

"Yip-pee!" yelled excited Democrats with one notable exception.

"No." By the coldness of his eye and the hostile tilt of his cigar, National Committeeman Eugene Talmadge of Georgia stood out like a skeleton at a feast. Ever since President Roosevelt removed Georgia's relief administration from his hands, Governor Talmadge has called himself a "Jeffersonian," as distinguished from a "Jacksonian." Democrat. Popping up in Washington, Gene Talmadge ostentatiously absented himself from the Jack son Day Dinner at the Mayflower Hotel but showed up at the Willard next morning just before Boss Farley made his rousing speech.

Frank Hague, Mayor of Jersey City stood up to offer a resounding resolution which began by proposing "that we ... reaffirm our unanimous and unfaltering loyalty to our great President" and ended with a tribute to "the leader whose match less courage and faith in the people of our land has given the world an example of pure devotion to public duty and genius in statesmanship that will cause to stand out in the annals of humanity the name of Franklin D. Roosevelt!" Less quick-witted than usual, Boss Farley called for a vote on the resolution. To the mortification of all present, instead of making the resolution unanimous and unfaltering, disloyal Gene Talmadge removed the cigar from his mouth, snarled a bitter "No!"

"To Philadelphia." The pain fulness of that scene was only erased that afternoon by the excitement of picking a convention city in which fo renominate Franklin Roosevelt. A sporting atmosphere was introduced right at the start by canny William Gibbs McAdoo. Speaking in behalf of San Francisco, California's Democratic Senator inquired of Boss Farley: "Is this going to be a poker game or a straight bid?"

"It's my guess," replied the Postmaster General, "that the bid can be raised. Then play poker and bid your head off."

"I will open with a small ante of $150,000 for the convention together with the hall without cost to the Committee," said Senator McAdoo, without, however, pushing forward any actual chips.

Then up spoke rheumy old Patrick A. Nash, boss of Cook County. "As Mr. McAdoo has opened the pot," said Illinois' Committeeman, "we will stay, bidding $150,000 with a certified check." Chicago's cause was also supported by Senator James Hamilton Lewis, who pointed out that a convention held in "the Queen City of the Great Lakes," would be a great bid for Midwestern farm support.

Then up rose the chief of Philadelphia's mission who, though he supported Woodrow Wilson in 1912 and Franklin Roosevelt in 1932, is at present not a Democrat at all but a Republican. Mayor S. Davis Wilson, in cahoots with such Pennsylvania New Dealers as Governor Earle and Senator Guffey, was prepared to offer a certified check for $200,000 (half of which came from G. O. Partisans, who drew no party lines when it came to $4,000,000 worth of business), a free hall, about $50,000 in concessions and, as his own personal contribution, $1,500 for the best essays on Philadelphia by a delegate and an alternate.

Boss Farley turned to California's McAdoo. "Anything further to offer?"

"Two hundred and one thousand dollars," replied Senator McAdoo. "It looks like a bluff," muttered one skeptical Committeeman.

The Philadelphia contingent reminded the Committee that its $1,500 in essay prizes had not been covered.

"Has Chicago another bid?" asked Boss Farley.

"Chicago has made its offer and stands pat," answered "Pat" Nash.

Thereupon Boss Farley and the convention committee recessed. When they returned they were hollering: "Let's go to Philadelphia!"

To Philadelphia, therefore, will go all good Democrats on June 23.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.