Yesterday

As the first chilly winds of Autumn whipped around the Tammany wigwam early this September the Sachems within huddled about the fire and speculated gloomily on the prospects for the winter. It looked bad. There was no doubt that Chief Mammoth-jaw O'Brien was not the man the tribe had thought. The magic of his thunder-bearing oratory was losing force, and his latest attempts at balancing the budget had revealed a dismaying lack of biceptual muscle, as well as nearly causing a village riot. In the next election it was all too possible that a revolt might swing the tide to Fiorello Laguardia, the Fusionist contender. If this occurred, the Tammany wigwam was likely to do a sizeable amount of starving in the ensuing months. It is a saying which Pollux is fond of repeating, "that necessity is the mother of invention." And so it proved to be. Before another moon had passed Sachems Flynn and Curry had acted, Holy Joe McKee was designated to enter the campaign as a third major candidate, and the Wigwam became its cheery old self, confident that confusion had been thrown into the ranks of its enemies, and the election of Chief O'Brien assured. The tent was warm with visions of winter feasts to come.

Somewhere south of the West Indies and east of Florida lies that editorial goldmine known as the Cuban Situation. Ever since Theodore Roosevelt, Cabot Lodge, and the forces of American journalism won the island for us, it has presented a really pleasant problem, one which was colorful enough to make good copy, and small enough to afford a thrill without a menace. Before and after the turn of the century a rousing fight centered about the question of Imperialism, Dollar Diplomacy, and such, lapsing into obscurity only for a time, as the economic conquest of the sugar resources was completed and as we turned our eyes to more pressing affairs, here and in Europe. But now with the violent removal of Butcher Machado, the United States becomes once more amusedly interested in Cuba Libre. And it is likely to remain so, for Cuba has now been torn into such utterly discordant groups that plenty of trouble can be expected. The island has a powerful labor movement on one side, an intermediate Fascist sect, an army divided amongst itself, and in the background American interests which are sure to intervene if the workers on the coast and in the interior approach political control and confiscate "American" property. No government can stand for long without paying its bills, and these cannot be met without aid from the Wall Street bunch. This means eventually a conservative puppet party will come to power, since it will be backed by the sugar and fruit plantation owners. But how long could that party last? The forces which overthrew Machado will remain, latent perhaps if they are crushed this time, but ready, soon or late, to spring up when the occasion presents itself.

I met Pollux last night chuckling softly over a newspaper item which reported Bishop Manning's refusal to allow the Lutherans to use the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York for a great Protestant celebration commemorating Martin Luther. Pollux was amused to recollect the good Bishop's fund-raising slogan when building the Cathedral: "A House of prayer for all people." The invisible amendment which Pollux missed seems to have read: "Except for non-Episcopalians and all those bearing the name Judge Ben Lindsey."