The Lawmakers

The oratory that boomed across the legislative halls of the country's State capitols last week was rich and idiomatic, troubled with thought and sprinkled with barnyard humor. But it was also more than that: better than the voices in Congress, it reflected the temper of the U.S. people in all its variety.

State Legislatures sometimes represent democracy at its shallowest, its most corrupt. (In Missouri, two years ago, a member offered to sell his vote for a $35 suit, with two pairs of pants.) But in wrestling with the great & small problems which the Constitution reserved to the States, the thousands of men & women under the capitol domes debate the issues that cut closest to U.S. homes.

The statesmen of the State capitols are completely uninhibited, cheerfully they tackle any topic. Last week:

Taxation looks simple this year: almost all States have a whopping surplus, built up by the application of depression-born taxes on the wartime boom. Many considered cutting taxes; Illinois invested $40,000,000 in war bonds. But a ghost haunted them all: the shades of departed millions of dollars of revenue from the loss of gas and auto taxes.

Women's Rights. For 20 years, Massachusetts' women have sought the right to sit on juries. Last week they renewed their demand, led by socialite Mrs. Leslie B. Cutler, Representative from Needham, divorcee, mother of five. Before a stony-faced committee she argued that if women are good enough to serve in war, they are good enough for juries. Male ridicule had beaten the proposal in previous years. ("Imagine a woman of Cleopatra's type being locked up with eleven men overnight.") Finally the wisecracks came. Roared a chivalrous lawyer:

"I protest against submitting women to the indignities of the jury room. . . . You have no idea of what goes on behind those closed doors. Why, some men remove their coats and vests and even their shirts."

Massachusetts women may have to wait another two years.

Politicking. In the ill-proportioned Illinois Capitol, whose windows look out over the rolling Lincoln country, Republicans cheerfully and riotously voted an investigation of fuel oil rationing. (The House GOP leader applied an old gag to a new situation: "I hear that a lot of parents around the United States are being called Key Birds--they shudder down in the bottom of their cages and say, 'Key-rist, it's cold.' ") It made little difference that this is a Federal problem: Illinoisans must be kept informed (and GOPsters can gather a little campaign material). By the time the investigation is completed, it will be warm.

Morals. South Carolina's statesmen issued a 971-page report alleging sexual irregularities in prisons, the most voluminous publication in the South since Gone With the Wind. Limited to 470 copies, it is already at a premium.

People's Rights. From Tennessee's pre-Civil War capitol came the most statesmanlike action of the week, though hardly a credit to the legislators. Once before they had refused to abolish the State's poll tax, seemed set to do so again. But the State's press reminded wealthy, irascible Governor Prentice Cooper of his campaign promise to repeal the tax. One by one, Prentice Cooper--who fondles his pet parrot "Laura" while transacting State business--called in the legislators, demanded their votes. From Memphis came the affirmative nod of white-haired Democratic Boss Ed Crump. After that it was just a breeze; the legislators repealed the law in jig time.

Foreign Relations. Though powerless to act on them. State Legislatures may talk about foreign affairs. Most feared man in the dairy-conscious Wisconsin Legislature is greying, voluble John E. Cashman, 79, who is against smoking, drinking, oleomargarine and foreigners. Two years ago he lambasted England as imperialistic, fought hard for U.S. isolation. Last week he asked his colleagues to memorialize Congress not to send butter--at least not good Wisconsin butter--to America's Allies, especially Russia. On second thought, he agreed that his hated oleomargarine would be all right for Russia.

The War? From Augusta, Me. to Sacramento, Calif. almost all Legislatures had passed resolutions in favor of doing their work speedily and going home. Last week the Indianapolis News heaped scorn on the Indiana Legislature: "With utter fearlessness the Legislature at last is getting around to the business of doing something final and remedial about the bullfrog crisis. In the process of enactment also are war measures dealing with the mussel, the raccoon and the migratory tomcat. . . ."

But no man could say that the people's representatives were not busy.

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