University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign HUMS HISTORICAL SURVEY -7 crt> £ ON TO THE WHITE HOUSE Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2012 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/ontowhitehousebyOOabso ON TO THE WHITE HOUSE By BEN J- ABSON 1931 THE TRUE TRUTH PUBLISHING COMPANY BOX 503 :: CHICAGO Copyright, 1931, by BEN J. ABSON MANUFACTURED AND PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES 21 Z To M;y Father and Mother To Whom I Owe Everything I Am and Everything I Have. PREFACE Part of the manuscript of this book was written in the lobby of the Urbana- Lincoln Hotel, the site of the old his- toric tavern where Abraham Lincoln stopped when he made Urbana as '* rid- ing' ' judge out of Springfield ; part was written in bed, in the room I occupied with the H. W. Cunningham family — the same bed that Lincoln used in Ur- bana, the rare possession of the late Judge Cunningham, pioneer and illus- trious citizen of Champaign County and intimate friend of Lincoln. Thus the spirit of the greatest of the sons of America, Abraham Lincoln, pervaded the writing of the entire manuscript, and was the guiding in- spiration for the revealing of the sim- ple truth, in homely fashion, and for the ardent longing for the return of the "good old days." If the body of the martyred President, reposing not many miles distant from here, could awaken in its grave and behold the ghastly sight of Illinois and the nation today, it would want to turn over at once and slumber on into the vastness of Etern- ity! The twentieth century is an highly productive period — fertile and fecund. It has produced a great war, prohibi- tion, gangsters, sociologists, co-educa- tion, mass-football, the teeth-pulling fad as a panacea for all ills, air-planes instead of angels, automobile-petting, catenarchists, Solid-South Republican- ism, Hoover prosperity, painted ladies, knee-high dresses, worldly ministers, corrupt judges, Methodist lobbyists, Anti-Saloon League demagogues, Klan rapists and non-philoprogenitiveness. It has produced an infinite chain of new things ; but it has failed to sustain the old, the accumulation of the ages, the works of art, the philosophy of God. It has produced no literature. So I have not attempted to produce litera- ture in this tome, but to give the read- ing-world what it wants. This is not an apologia et defensio pro mea vita. However, I have laid down the whole truth and nothing but the truth. It is the truth that hurts. Rock-ribbed and standing alone on the edge of the precipice, it shouts defiantly: " Truth crushed to earth will rise again The Eternal years of God are His." I gratefully acknowledge the kind suggestions and helpful criticism of Stanley Gilbert Schoenbrod and Eevilo Oliver, two of the most brilliant minds on the University of Illinois campus, who carefully read the manuscript. Ben J. Abson. 604 South Broad St., Urbana, Illinois, June 1st, 1930. ADDENDUM As this book goes to press, there is one man who stands out in the eyes of the nation, a worthy successor of Lin- coln and Roosevelt, and that man is Judge John H. Lyle, Judge of the Felony Court of the Municipal Court of the city of Chicago. Single-handed and with the rest of the bench and bar arrayed against him, Judge Lyle has done more good for society and govern- ment in the last few months than the entire legal world has done in the last two decades. If the good citizens and voters would indulge in a little common decency and self-respect, they would return Judge Lyle as Mayor of the City, or Governor of the State, and, Oh, what a God-send that would be and what a Miracle performed ! Ben J. Abson. On To The White House "Tra-la-la, o-tra-la-la," chirped "bright," azure-eyed Lesbia Teufel, the youngest of three daughters, who had just turned the favored age of flavored four times four. Her long, golden curls in the gilded sunshine, that streamed in through the open window of the sun parlor of the sumptuous family apart- ment, gave a perfect setting, as she de- fiantly tossed back her head in girlish fashion and declared, " there's method in my madness." After a still moment of thought she added, " music's the 19 On to the White House thing wherein I'll catch the conscience of the family." Professor Palatka's assertion that Lesbia had a wonderful voice and all the earmarks of a stage star in her makeup had added zest to the family's all-set impression that a divine, but kindly Providence had sent her to this world for a stage career, but that their parental duty was to deter her from that purpose and from that highly im- moral field, to the inclusion of any and every other desire, and to the satisfying of her every whim and caprice. "Gee! that's gorgeous," Lesbia hurled back at herself, "nothing to do and all the spending money I want. Boys, dates, clothes, jewelry, candy and ice cream. Seven come eleven ! Friday, 20 On to the White House the thirteenth, lucky star!" Herr Louie Teufel, of German de- scent, with a bit of its accent, was seated at his massive, high topped mahogany desk in his main law offices on the nine- ty-fourth floor of the new Blackstone Building, at 46 West Choate Lane, in the heart of the immaculate loop of Chicago. Clerks and stenographers were rushing about madly through the orderly, luxuriously furnished rooms of the commodious suite in an effort to catch up with the day's heavy toll of exacting detail and routine. "Will you take care of that, Mr. Teufel ?," queried the corpulent client. " Ja, Hans, don't worry. I'll take care of everything, ' ' replied the dark-haired lawyer, he with the round, applelike 21 On to the White House countenance and square projecting stomach. The defendant looked up with filial reverence and gave a silent approbation of his all-trusting confidence. The sinis- ter twinkle in the corner of Teufel's eye had no meaning to him. He thought all lawyers were honest, had an unend- ing code of ethics and would never think of taking both sides of a case. "Papa," burst in Lesbia who had just come from home, "I have to have a hun- dred dollars for a gorgeous new evening gown for ." "My dear little girl, how many times have I told you never to interrupt me when I have a client in my private office ! You don't seem to remember," inter- jected the kindly father who was as af- 22 On to the White House fectionate and considerate of his wife and daughters as he was cold and selfish to the exoteric world, except for ulterior business motives. With this admonition he pulled out a roll from his pocket and plucked two fifty dollar bills from near the bottom. " Thanks, papa, that's gorgeous,'' said the baby daughter and smiled her way to the door. " Sheridan 4239, please, operator, call- ing from Marshall Field & Company," hurriedly spoke the busy sixteen year old girl who was fast losing her youth- ful innocence and ingenuousness. " Hello, mamma, how are you? Gor- geous? ... .1 am going out to dinner with a gorgeous girl friend and won't be home until late . . . ." 23 On to the White House "Very well, dear, .... be careful, and don't take cold ....," answered Mrs. Teufel, in tones that indicated a matronly looking mother of fifty-seven years, some fifteen years older than her husband. When her daughters were small, she had a love and a kind and open heart for all children, but now that they were grown up, her entire life and soul were wrapped up in them and self- ishly devoted to their polychrome inter- ests. In her eyes, they were the best in the world, whatever they did was right, and they were infallible. Leaving the rest room of the mam- moth department store at five o'clock, Lesbia hailed a Yellow Cab on State Street and ordered the driver to take her to the Hotel Villa Roma on Lake 24 On to the White House Shore Drive, in the vintage of the Gold Coast. This hostelry was recently com- pleted and its fame spread far and wide as the tallest and largest in the world, towering dizzily to an height of one hun- dred stories and containing ten thousand rooms, in commemoration of the imper- ishable Xerxes and his memorable army of the same number. It was erected and owned by Signor Alberto Capra, national bootlegger de luxe, federal beer baron, gambling chief- tain; generalissimo of the allied forces of vice whose ramifications dot the bright lights of urban centres and the main streets of rural hamlets, and reach from college campuses to sumptuous hotels, wherever Old Glory unfurls her silk to the four winds — as ubiquitous as 25 On to the White House her evil sister chain stores, and embrac- ing ever-increasing countless thousands of slaves and courtesans culled from every stratum of society, from unso- phisticated country girls to epicene co- eds and blue-blood debutantes; grand racketeer in ninety-eight trades and in- dustries, with all the power of a union leader and labor dictator; luscious "pineapple" manufacturer and distrib- utor, with offices, demonstration display rooms and warehouses in the principal cities of the country, and with a training school, under the direction and su- pervision of a faculty of expert technicians; egregious gangster, inter- nationally known as the king of them all; arch criminal and wholesale mur- derer of ten thousand human kind in 26 On to the White House every land where civilized man has pen- etrated, whose lethal tactics are so atro- cious and heinous that they would be barred by international law on the fields of battle, and would make a Spanish In- quisition seem mild and tame; un- crowned king of the vast underworld — a mighty and potent influence and force in American life and civilization today — who reigns supreme over Pluto's realm ; one of the richest of humans, as a great college daily recently wrote him up in her editorial columns ; illustrious and distinguished American citizen, a very profitable frequent headliner in the daily newspapers and interviewed often by their special correspondents, in this Neroian age of unethical journalism; and wily, astute and influential politi- 27 On to the White House cian, with his eyes on the United States Senate from the state of Illinois, and, perhaps, ultimately with his eyes fixed on the White House, and his mistress the mistress of the White House and the First Lady of the Land. Who knows? The capitalist trustees of the University of Chicago recently saw fit to install a youth as president of that schoolless institution of learning, in keeping with their principles of "big business.' ' Why would not this thirty- two year old youth, Capra, virtually one of the rulers of the nation today, with all the necessary qualifications, be fit and logical timber for the presidency of the United States? Al Smith lost the job as the thirty-first incumbent of the White House, and the nation the great- 28 On to the White House est living man she had for that job, sim- ply and solely because of his religion. Capra, however, is not disqualified on that point, because all good gangsters are automatically excommunicated from the Catholic Church by the American Cardinals, and so the only recourse open to them, as good and pious Christians, is to embrace State Christianity, Prot- estantism. With brisk step Lesbia entered the main lobby of the hotel, the most mar- velous and impressive this side of heaven, and admitted to be the sum total of "the glory that was Greece and the grandeur that was Rome." She walked up to the cigar case, bought a package of cigarettes, pulled out one and lighted it. 29 On to the White House At one end of the long procession of brilliantly illuminated show cases there was gathered a small group of idle rich young men, scions of some of Chicago 's most prominent and aristocratic fami- lies. They were playing dice, in the par- lance of the gangsters, " shooting crap," at five and ten dollars a game. It is a rather peculiar condition of affairs when people purchase commodities at five and ten cents, but are prone to gam- ble away their surplus at five and ten dollars a shot. Looking around Lesbia caught a glimpse of this " twentieth century spir- itual meeting," and leisurely sauntered over in that direction, puffing away non- chalantly at her cigarette. " Hello, boys! How's every little 30 On to the White House thing by you? All right? By me it's all right, too," she ejaculated. "Glad to see you again, Lesbia," they joined in unison, "Wouldn't you like to join us?" "You bet, that's gorgeous ! The pleas- ure's all mine." The dawn was just breaking through the moon-lit clouds. The stars were dimly fading into the sidereal firma- ment. The sun was just peeping on the heat-baked atmosphere from her lofty throne in the Orient. It was the longest day of the year, June, the twenty-first. It was the first day of summer, accord- ing to the astronomical calendar. It was beastly hot. Nocturnal revelers were hastily retreating to the arms of Mor- pheus. Early matutinal risers were hur- 31 On to the White House riedly performing their morning ablu- tions and getting set for the tasks of the long day. It was at this beckoning hour that Lesbia and her boy friends broke up their hilarious "standing" party. Around midnight the girl of "today" was about five hundred dollars to the good, but her fortunes had vacillated throughout the night, like shifting sands on the sea shore. The finish found her out the one hundred dollars her father had given her that afternoon for the evening gown, another one hundred dol- lars that she had in her hand bag for petty cash and incidentals, and a large diamond dinner ring set in platinum, a gift from her parents recently, mark- ing no particular occasion, except the 32 On to the White House bounteousness of their over-doting de- votion and affection. "Gee I I don't care, I had a gorgeous time. That's what money is for; and I have plenty of diamonds left. Besides, papa has a lot more in the vault, and gets them right along from his clients,' ' mused the spoiled miss, as the embry- onic ivory tossers called a taxi to take her home. ' ' Say, Lesbia, ' ' j estingly ventured one of the scions of the Gold Coast, "if we had played much longer, you would have lost your clothes, too." "I would not have lost much, only this dress and slippers," she retorted snap- pily and ironically, pointing down at them. "And then they always blame us 33 Ox to the White House men," he rejoined. "We girls don't blame your sex. I know what you are driving at. We like it. We solicit it." It was nine o'clock in the morning. The front door buzzer buzzed. It was the lavish, exquisitely oriental apart- ment of the Teuf els on Sheridan Road, at a rental that would stagger the in- come figures of the common folk. There entered Belinda, the eldest daughter, the wife of Anjou Joujou. She counted, ac- cording to the family Bible — opened only on such rare occasions — ,twenty winters, was a blushing, blooming bride of three summers' duration, and had a rascal of a small son of two seasons, known in the juvenile world as Black- stone Joujou. Thus the grandfather 34 On to the White House labeled the youngster when he arrived in the stork package, as an ominous por- tent for handing down to posterity his large, lucrative and shady law practice. Besides having as an heritage from birth, in large measure, the bad quali- ties from both father and mother, the little brat was spoiled by an over-indul- gent family. Belinda had the reputation on the street and in the neighborhood gossip of being good looking. But, blaah ! That doesn't mean a thing in the world; means no more than when we say black is white and white is black. There is one way, and one way only, to judge the pul- chritude of girls of today : to see them when they climb out of bed in the morn- ing ; not after they have applied all the 35 On to the White House suave art and latent secrets of pyro- technics to their faces, with the dex- terity and adroitness of a Renaissance painter. Two decades ago fiery faces among the fair and fickle formations were confined to grotesque tales about primordial tribes of savages; to the harlots of royal courts of palmy bygone days; to the meretrices — animal mer- chandise — of red light districts of our own American cities. On the other hand, Belinda had comely, well shaped, well greaved legs, the fifty-seventh variety that would be cited in college classes in aesthetics, hy- giene, public speaking or ethics of jour- nalism ; or that would win first place in a popularity or beauty contest waged on a studyless, autoless college campus, 36 On to the White House where football and interlocking love directorates are major curricular sub- jects. Besides being "the mold of form," she of the charming legs, with dress clearing her knees, — a sight to behold on Boul Mich, with gentle zephyrs waft- ing along merrily in the lazy sunshine ! — was "the glass of fashion," insofar as quality, style, fit and grace of habile- ments were concerned, but a sea nymph as to quantity and translucency. To round out a symmetrical whole, this same "mulier" — woman — was an ex- treme brunette, as swarthy as "the tents of Khedar and the curtains of Solo- mon," as Sheba described herself to Solomon's wives in paucity. Mrs. Anjou Joujou had four major 37 On to the White House faults. She had an ugly temper and a mean disposition; she exaggerated her social entertainments and friends, in- dulged in a far-flung social whirl, and served " individual pies' ' at hyperbolic functions, like children build air castles and serve mud pies; and fourthly, but not least, gossip had it and rumor con- firmed that she stepped out, on rare oc- casions, with other men. We don't know. It may be true, or it may not. In this epicene age of enlightened civilization, with the ancipital standard on the rocks and reefs, we mistrust all women. Can you really blame us? There are some good ones left in this little old world, but their proportion is decreasing each year. The old theory, in this respect, namely, that they are innocent, until they are proved guilty, is antiquated 38 On to the White House and obsolete. Consequently, today we mistrust, and we mistrust hard and long. However, Belinda was possessed of some fine, sterling qualities, redeeming features in this era of lazy, "overedu- cated," work-resisting, cigarette-smok- ing, Bacchus-drinking, passion-loving girls. She was a kind daughter, a loving wife and a devoted mother. She kept up a large house, finely furnished, was a neat and tidy housekeeper, and did a large portion of her own work. She arose at six o'clock each morning and prepared a large, healthy breakfast — commendable traits today, almost a lost art. Most young housewives, in this " co- educational" epoch, live in an eight by ten nest furnished by some fake "your 39 On to the White House Bible "-catalogue mail-order house ; purchase their viands in tin cans at some cold-blooded, fake chain grocery store — where private br and " goat-cans" with red labels, in one thousand and fifty- seven varieties, at half the price, pass- ing the rigid censorship of the Pure Food and Drug Act, contents fifty per cent pure pig pabulum and the remain- ing fifty per cent pure, unadulterated water, embellish the "unlocal" shelves; sleep all morning, drive and smoke all afternoon, and spend the evening with their friends playing bridge, gossiping about everybody else and everybody else's business, and discussing the scin- tillating current literature and best novels, such as " Hungry Hearts" and "Getting Gertie's Garter." 40 On to the White House The " poor- fish' ' young husbands " bending their weary steps homeward, " after a day of weary toil, find their love nests dark and deserted. They sprinkle a few drops of vesper water on their tired hands and faces, and beat it around the corner for the one-armed, slop-dispensing, fake chain restaurant, where the totality of a square meal costs more than in a legitimate eat shop. Belinda found her mother bustling about in the kitchen. The former was en- raged ; you could see it on her face. She had met Mrs. Antoinette Belle on the street on the way down. Antoinette, as an interested friend of the family, and as a mother fully realizing the evil temp- tations thrown in the path of girls of the present generation, told her that 41 On to the White House her son, Homer, had seen Lesbia at two o'clock in the morning throwing the white ivory discus at the Hotel Villa Roma. "That isn't true. Lesbia doesn't do such things. Homer is mad because Lesbia turned him down on a date, and so he made it up and told it to you." "Mamma, what do you know about Antoinette ! The big fool and old gossip ! I just met her on the street, and she told me that Homer saw Lesbia shaking dice at the hotel. Jealous of Lesbia, that's all ! Like the rest of them. I am getting sick and tired of all these petty people with their pandering prattle and gan- dering gossip. That's all they do. It's disgusting." "Ach du lieber! You are right. Ach 42 On to the White House du lieber ! ' ' These few words said little, but conveyed much. It crystallized the sentiment of the good shepherdess tend- ing over her fine flock with an all- watch- ful eye. The buzzer buzzed again. This time it was the quarter hour past ten o'clock. In came the middle daughter, Miranda. She was eighteen years old, and had in- dulged in conjugal life for over a year with Royale Sartor. They had an infant son, named Solon by the grandfather to give the family another law-maker and law-breaker. Miranda was quite tall, slender and decidedly a brunette. She was rather attractive, had a shapely shape and fine form with curvilinear lines and melting angles. She wore stilted French heels of 43 On to the White House several inches of laminated leather ; and long, pendant earrings, offset by many a distinctive piece of barbaric refine- ment, the sum total of which outweighed her flimsy raiments. She painted like an Indian, powdered like a miller just out of a flour barrel, lip-sticked to the fraction of an inch, and smoked cigar- ettes like a sorority girl at a Pan-Hel- lenic war dance. Like her sister, Belinda, she main- tained a large, well furnished house, and did most of her own work. She was up early in the morning, and served three copious meals every day. Mrs. Royale Sartor treated her par- ents with the utmost respect and rever- ence, kissed her husband and nobody else's, and reared her tiny son like the 44 On to the White House mothers of yore. She had one main fault, and that was that she had none of the major faults of the present day- girls of this "age of faults." Miranda greeted her mother and sis- ter. She breezed the news she had gleaned since they last met. At the butcher shop, a little while before, she had run into Mrs. Hermina Himmel. "Hermina obtained a divorce from her husband last week." Recently he had reorganized their nocturnal headquar- ters and instituted a new system and budget. He had installed the latest vogue in a two-tone bedroom suite of the Queen Elizabeth period with twin beds. She objected strenuously to this latter co-ordination. He tried, how- ever, to make her understand that it 45 On to the White House was not like a parietal division, such as existed between Pyramus and Thisbe. Nevertheless, this hygienic coup d' etat caused a " separation of entities." The evil-eyed judge granted her a decree on the grounds of " sentimental incompati- bility." The now tobacco-chewing judge re- called the days when he and the pretty, black-haired woman, to whom he had just granted the divorce, had carried on an amatory affair for four years at one of the largest colleges in the country, where dignified deans were busy formu- lating one hundred and one rules and regulations for the upholding of the morals and decorum of students when the " fourth dimension" goes into prac- tical operation, alongside of the now 46 On to the White House historic Eighteenth Amendment, and Monsieur Paul Poiret's sweeping sar- torial revolution to reveal the naive art and exotic beauty of feminine figures. " Mamma, Hermina's sister, Helena, told her that she had seen Lesbia last night shooting dice at the Hotel Villa Roma with a bunch of fellows. I got mad and flew off the handle. I told her what I thought of both of them. The nerve that some people have ! They take the keenest delight in making up such stories and then spreading them like wildfire. Can you beat it?" Miranda and Belinda stayed at their mother's for luncheon. They finished at two, and Lesbia had just crawled out of bed. She stretched and yawned and said she was still tired from the strenu- 47 On to the White House ous days and nights she was putting in as a busy body in a busy world, carrying out her social duties and maintaining her social position and versatile ward- robe. The two sisters' afternoon program called for shopping downtown. Lesbia insisted that they wait just a jiffy until she slipped on a dress, powdered her nose and sipped a cup of coffee. "For I need several new gorgeous gowns and a few pair of gorgeous new-style slip- pers.' ' The girl of many gowns and more slippers kissed her mother goodbye, and as she passed out waved an hand unused to work. "Have a gorgeous time while I am gone, mamma." When money for clothes and shoes is 48 On to the White House unlimited and one can make purchases of them as often as a stenographer does chewing gum, shopping is easy and sim- ple and can be despatched with alacrity. In ten minutes, Lesbia had added fresh stock to the already large and cumber- some inventory of her wardrobe. " Everything is gorgeous. Ta, ta, sis- ters !" Lesbia strolled down Michigan Boulevard, the avenue of smart and fashionable exclusive shops, dividing her attention between glancing at the solid line of brightly lighted display windows and flirting with the men promenaders of the street. Casting a circumspect eye down the thoroughfare, she noticed a large red sign in conspicuous letters. It read: 49 On to the White House " Girls! Have red hair. The latest rage. Girls love it. Boys are wild about it. All work guaranteed." "Gee! That's gorgeous! I think I'll have it done. I'll look gorgeous! The fellows will all run after me." "Say, lady barber! Cut the hair and make it red, old fiery top !" "You look just beautiful now, miss. Take a look in the long mirror." "Gee! I think it looks gorgeous. Mamma '11 love it, I know. The boys will all be crazy about me now, don't you think so, hairdresser?" "Mademoiselle, the boys will think you're fresh from Paris, and you'll have more dates than any girl in Chicago. You'll be in demand all over." "Gee! That's gorgeous! I'm tickled 50 On to the White House pink. I'll be back again. Goodbye." * * ■* #• * * # " Hello, mamma ! How are you ? Gor- geous?" " Ach du lieber ! Lesbia, ach du lieber ! What has happened to you ? What have you done?" "Only red hair, mamma. Gorgeous, isn't it? Don't you love it, mamma? Everybody's going to do it pretty soon. It's all the rage now. Don't you think it makes me dignified and aristocratic- looking? Tell papa all about it." "Yes, dear, I love it. It is very be- coming to you and makes you look smart and stylish. It will set off your clothes. I am glad you had it done." "Mamma, long, golden curls are all right for country girls and working 51 On to the White House girls. Don't you think I am right ?" "Yes, dear, you are always right/ ' "Oh, mamma, you are such a dear," and she threw her arms around her and hugged and kissed her. Twenty years ago fiery locks were despised alike by both young and old, abhorred from the cradle to declining senility. If you were born with red hair, it was only an act of God, inevitable. Children in school, endowed with it, were tantalized to the point of copious tears. Titian-haired young ladies had an hard time to get a date in those days. The only place where it was welcome and indulged in, in artificial fashion, was in our red light districts — by pros- titutes and women of ill-fame. 52 On to the White House It was Sunday afternoon, three o'clock, to be precise. It was a typical June day, hot, but agreeable. It was one of those rare June Sundays when a little life and action would be congenial. Herr Louie and his wife, Rossa, were sitting leisurely in the sun parlor. They had just finished a chicken dinner. Les- bia was in her boudoir, resting on the Sabbath afternoon. She had only been up an hour, but it was that good old Sabbath rest, spiritual and refreshing. Herr Louie remarked to his wife that he wished someone would drop in to spend the afternoon, visiting and chat- ting. Just as he had finished his remark, the telephone rang. It was his nephew, Beaconsfield King. He was out riding with his mother, Emmeline King, sister 53 On to the White House to Eossa. They would arrive in about an half an hour for a visit, and would stay for lunch. Lesbia, as was her usual custom, pre- pared to "beat" it, when she heard rela- tives were coming. Evidently, there was not enough life and color to the enter- tainment of such prosaic guests as relations ; or, perhaps, she felt the less relatives knew about her life and its manifold interests, the better it would be for her, now and in the future. Herr Louie and Rossa were alone in their apartment when Beaconsfield and his mother drove up. Being Sunday afternoon, the maid was out, too. The sisters went off to the front bedroom, and started in to criticize each other's clothes ; each accused the other of being 54 On to the White House old-fashioned and stingy, and of self- ishly devoting all her time and efforts to her children. Mrs. King was ten years younger than her sister, and also had three children, Beaconsfield, the eldest, another son, and an only daugh- ter bringing up the rear. The sartorial philippics gradually melted away, and the verbal encounter ended a draw. Then the two sisters launched upon an endless chain of gossip, like all women, headed by the redoubtable "Jane, the Village Gossip." In the meantime, Uncle Herr Louie and Beaconsfield, being left to them- selves, went into the sun parlor and sat down. It was an ideal spot to sit and talk, this wonderful June Sunday after- noon, with the sun pouring in profusely 55 On to the White House through the many, spacious windows, and a gentle breeze blowing from off the waters of Lake Michigan, only a stone's throw distant. It was a picturesque set- ting, to say the least ! To add a bit of aroma and color to the scene, perhaps to lend a touch of conviv- iality and inspiration, Uncle Herr Louie opened up an handsome humidor, opu- lent with long, black, pure Havana cigars, bankers' invincible size, culled from the choicest tips of indigenous leaves, that would make Cal Coolidge himself a trifle envious, and asked Bea- consfield to join him in a smoke. " Don't hesitate to smoke as many as you care to, for there are plenty of them here, and that is what they are for." 4 * Thank you, uncle. I'll help myself." 56 On to the White House They both clipped the ends of their cigars and lighted up. As they puffed away, large, thick, perfect circles formed and ascended into the thinner air above. "You know, Uncle Herr Louie, I think the Duke of Buckingham was about right, when he coined that famous epigram. He was a past master of ready wit and repartee, and when he was taunted about the use of tobacco, at some grand, aristocratic function, he grand- iloquently replied, 'he who never useth tobacco, either knoweth no trouble, or else misseth the greatest solace known to man'." "I agree with you, Beaconsfield. I think he spoke the truth. That's the way I feel about tobacco." 57 On to the White House Beaconsfield King was a young man of twenty-five. He was six feet tall, well built, looked like a college athlete and possessed a dignified air of refinement and intellect. He had attended a small high school, and had completed his edu- cation at a small college, where he had studied and learned, in the "good, old- fashioned way." He had been thor- oughly grounded in Latin and Greek, and literature, before intensifying on the social and natural sciences. He had taught for several years in a small high school, in the same "good, old-fash- ioned way." So he had a world of knowledge and experience, so different from the college graduate of today, who has been out a few years ! He was quali- fied to talk on most any topic or subject, 58 On to the White House with a degree of authority. "Beaconsfield, current events and topics of the day are striding along, at such a fast pace, that we can hardly keep abreast of them." "I think you are quite right, uncle. A fast age, and fast paces !" # * * * * * * " Young man, let me tell you! I want to impress upon you that one of the most damnable and contemptible things, that we have to contend with in this fast age today, is education and schools! Now, Beaconsfield, do not be shocked at this seemingly audacious statement." " Uncle Herr Louie, I wholeheartedly agree with you. You are absolutely right. I believe, this is the first time that we have ever held the same view, on any 59 On to the White House vital issue or question. "This ideal environment here this afternoon makes me feel that I am on the summit of Mt. Parnassus ; so, with your permission, uncle, I feel I can soar to loftier heights of oratory and in- vective, to the pinnacle of humor and satire, in discussing this momentous subject, on which I have a good deal to say." "Beaconsfield, I would be glad to hear what you have to say about it. If anyone is qualified to speak on educa- tion and schools, and on the hypocrisy and insincerity of high school and col- lege boys and girls of today, I know you are." "Our high schools and colleges today, with very few exceptions, are in an ex- 60 On to the White House cruciating state of affairs. In the days of Washington, Lincoln and Roosevelt, next to the flag and its Constitution, our schools were the greatest symbol of liberty, equality and democracy that we had ; the foundation of our rapid prog- ress; the cornerstone of our advancing civilization; the pillars of our increas- ing leadership for posterity. But ah! this has become a lost art in the hypo- dynamic 1910 's, and the dynamic 1920 's, but heaven only knows what the super- dynamic 1930 's have in store. We are entering this superdynamic decade with our high schools turning out young, un- bridled colts, and our colleges older, un- curbed menaces. "High school educators today empha- size the fact that they do not require 61 On to the White House Latin and cognate subjects any longer; for they claim the times have changed, and they are no longer necessary for a liberal education, and essential prepar- ation for practical guidance in the fast, busy outside world. They plead our high schools today are socialized insti- tutions, community centres. 'But, ah, there 's the rub ! ' How true it is, they are community centres for everything, ex- cept studies and intellectual pursuits! How true it is, they are a part of, co- operate with the community at large, which so flagrantly violates the Prohibi- tion Amendment and has such utter dis- regard for every other law; which di- vorces as fast as it marries, and smokes cigarettes as fast as they make them; which dances its feet off, to the tune of 62 On to the White House 6 canned-heat ' ( ' j azz-passion ' ) music, and footballs its head off, to the tune of a semi-lioliday ! And how true it is, they are not socialized institutions, but sex- ualized institutions, with the latter com- plex guiding their destinies through a cyclical period of four hectic, pleasure- seeking years ! "We are loath to admit, but the col- lege campus today is an inverted educa- tional community, turned upside down, standing on its head. Its fundamentals are inverted, its decalogue, its perspec- tive, its ethics ; the only thing that is not inverted: professors' salaries. "Co-education is one of the great in- versions on the college campus today. The deans of men and women function as little, and accomplish constructively 63 On to the White House as much in handling the problems of co-education, as the prohibition depart- ment functions and accomplishes in handling the problems of prohibition enforcement. Since the college is the 1 clearing-house' for the sexualized in- stitution of learning, the high school, there is no abrupt transition in passing from the lower order to the higher, but merely a direct continuation of the past, under a more wholesome environment, more healthful conditions and greater pathogenic stimuli. Class rooms and lecture halls are 'Ziegfeld Follies' in miniature, where seats for college sheiks are at a premium, in which the pulchritude, shapes and legs of co-eds rate the highest. The library is the grand ' clearing-house' for these small- 64 On to the White House scale ' Follies,' where seats for these amorously inclined Lotharios are at a greater premium, at all open hours. The library scene is a stupendous spec- tacle of feminine pulchritude, shapes and legs, passing in incessant review. The smaller group scenes find co-eds at study tables, with books wide open and legs crossed, dresses flying well above their knees, vivacious and gum-chewing, engaged in animated conversation with the premium-seat holders. When she becomes emaciated from her gum- chewing and fatigued from her garru- lousness, each Juliet accompanied by her Romeo wends her way to the campus confectionery, where she re- peats her library tactics in greater se- clusion, perhaps in a care-free booth. 65 On to the White House " Sororities are inverted snob houses, with spacious and grandiose lobbies, where refined, cultured female animals secretly dwell during the incumbency of their 'higher education' period. These inverted, secret biped mammals wear fraternity pins, eat their sand- wich-meals at the campus confection- eries, while the monthly checks from home pay in advance for the Greek-let- ter meals, smoke cigarettes en masse — to meet the requirements of the state fire department and the dean of women, they must furnish their own metal waste baskets and automatic lighters — , spit in the waste baskets and the fire- place, tell ' dirty' stories under the shower bath, display nude art for art's sake, in keeping with Hellenic ecology, 66 On to the White House and keep the telephone busy day and night, calling their favorite Arabic lords for a date or a dance, a la Paris- iennesque. k ' Class-room recitations, lectures, laboratory periods, quizzes and exams are found in inverted order on the campus today. With the advent of the superdynamic period, quizzes and exams are the regular order of the day, with a lean recitation, lecture or labora- tory period interspersed intermittently. Of course, this goes without saying that it is sound logic and pedagogy; it fol- lows as an axiom or corollary ! Profes- sors are the wisest of rarae aves ; they know how to ' educate' the flaming youth of the present who will dominate the world of tomorrow and sway her intel- 67 On to the White House lectual empires ! But alas ! The flaming, 1 sweet' graduate of today with his ultra- modern degree, and his sheepskin in Anglo Saxon — so he can read it — con- stantly staring him in the face ! Contrast his mental processes and erudition with those of the college trained man of a decade ago and two decades ago, and see how he falls by the wayside ! See how shallow and superficial and simulistic is his knowledge by comparison! Never- theless, he studies and works more, yet he learns less, and retains still less. Con- sequently, the scientific methods of in- struction and enlightened theories of pedagogy that run rampant today are not so sound and practical as the needle- eyed professors would make you believe. "The model workshop and high ten- 68 On to the White House sion testing-plant for all the idiotic ideas and tenuous theories of these asinine professors is the university high school, where well-meaning parents, laboring under the disillusionment that their boys and girls receive and acquire a superior training and education there, force them to attend. This hybrid insti- tution of learning is also the practice- school and observatory for the training of teachers, at the expense of these mar- tyred boys and girls who are mentally transfixed on the cross of experimental education. These nascibund teachers of posterity, thus dissected, become pol- luted and infected with mental bacteria that they carry away with them to the empirical schoolroom. Laden and bur- dened with these polychrome courses in 69 On to the White House 'education'— the total number are on the increase every period of years to meet the requirements for teaching cer- tificates — , they are wished a bon voyage by the faculty, as they set out on their maiden trip. For every hour foolishly and criminally spent in the college of education, these 'poor', tortured embryo teachers lose a corresponding hour from their major and minor subjects, and from the field of general culture and learning, with the inevitable result that they are not qualified to teach. Starting off as active craters, they erupt and belch forth an heterogeneous mass of lava upon the heads of their students, until they realize the futility of it all, and actively become extinct volcanoes. They remain in this lethargy, and, either 70 On to the White House resign themselves to the role of inadver- tent teachers, or embark upon the field of matrimony, or the business world. "The story was lately told of an East- ern young man, an high school graduate, who, a few years ago, in selecting an engineering school for his training, had picked a particular large college of en- gineering in the middle West, because a certain professor, nationally known and an authority in his field, was at the head of the department, and he would study under him and be under his tutelage; after graduating four years later from this institution, he was asked by an old friend how he liked the big professor under whom he went to study, and he re- plied that he had not even met the professor, but had seen him a few times 71 On to the White House on the campus. This is multum in parvo — saying much in little, in few words; but it sums up this phase of the college situation entirely. It is merely another case of campus inversion. The larger the college and the bigger the professor, the less chance the student stands of get- ting the professor, even in graduate work; the latter 's main function is to embellish the department and to lend prestige to the school, with occasional research, and a book now and then. "The bulk of the teaching in the un- dergraduate courses in the large college today is done by assistants. According to the fauna classification of the modern college, an assistant is the lowest form of animal life on the faculty, even be- low the unicellular, unilateral amoeba, 72 On to the White House the instructor; verily, he is not as highly developed as the highest and most complex form of flora life on the modern campus, falling categorically into the division of species of the dan- delion ; and like the latter flower, he is the parasitical embellishment on the campus, blurring the aesthetic eye. "This delicate, composite flower studies and teaches concurrently, knows little about either, knows nothing about what is going on in the world outside of its angustic subject and field, receives a lean emolument, and suffers from malnutrition ; its orders for course outlines and exams emanate from head- quarters, and the inspection of its class room methods and work by superior offi- cers is deferred to posterity. My dear 73 On to the White House Uncle Herr Louie, 'to me the meanest flower that blows can give thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears. ' " Work-days, holidays, recesses, and vacations all are inverted today on the college calendar. They are approximat- ing what Shakespeare thrusts into the mouth of Buff Prince Hal in his famous soliloquy in Henry IV, Part I, where he says: ' If all the year were playing holi- days, To sport would be as tedious as to work, But when they seldom come, they wished for come, And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents. ' The second semester is a trifle more con- 74 On to the White House servative as yet in the old, normal order. This is, undoubtedly, due to the fact that football has not yet encroached upon the vernal months of the year. However, whenever it does, that i conflict of con- flicts' will kick out enough business days to average up with the first semester. Labor leaders, child welfare workers, and humane societies, by legislation and other means, have brought about shorter working hours and a shorter week in the factories and workshops ; obviously, their omnispect eye caught the college, for the school year has been abridged at both ends. This curtailment of the work- ing day schedule gives the onerous, many-dutied student a chance to gain strength and vitality, during the sum- mer quarter, for the strenuous football 75 On to the White House days in the Fall. "More than two thousand years ago, 'Delenda est Karthago' — i Carthage must be destroyed' — was vociferated in the Eoman Senate until its tintinnabu- lations reverberated to the very depths of Dante's Inferno, hotter than the pas* sionate Romance love of Beatrice Por- tinari herself — unequalled in all the realm of womanhood ; and Carthage was destroyed. Today, football must become the most important single subject on the high school and college curriculum is vociferated in the star session chambers of the college council of administration until its tintinnabulations reverberate to the very heights of Milton's Paradise Lost, hotter than the passionate romance love of the football-captain dated, 76 On to the White House beauty-contest winning co-ed herself — unequalled in all the realm of flapper- hood and mistresshood ; and football is becoming the most important single sub- ject on the high school and college curriculum. "The college that instituted the first Homecoming Day, Dads' Day and Mothers' Day, in connection with the ways and means of swelling ihe stadium populace, and, incidentally, increas- ing the student-body — so that the deans would have greater freedom and flexi- bility in dismissing students, at will, under the pretext of the Malthusian theory of population, and the higher standards of their institution — , will probably be the first to inaugurate a Cousins' Day and a Best Girls' Day to 77 On to the White House further augment the hebdomadal influx, and, incidentally, to foment a greater interest in campus romance. "The gridiron, with its 'mass' com- plex, fiddles, like the Emperor Nero, while Rome burns, to apply the apt met- aphor of Dr. Nicholas Murray Butler, president of Columbia University, in speaking recently of the city of Wash- ington in relation to the Eighteenth Amendment." "A beautiful version! An eloquent plea! A powerful masterpiece, Bea- consfield! You have done credit to yourself. "The women are calling us to lunch." "Come over oftener to visit us, Bea- consfield ; you know you are always wel- 78 On to the White House come, and we are glad to have you any time. We will continue our discussions in the near future." " Thank you, Uncle Herr Louie, and Auf wiedersehen. ' ' ******* The following Sunday Belinda and Miranda with their families were in- vited over to their mother's for dinner. Every member of the immediate family was present to partake of the delicious viands, except Lesbia. She was out on some "hot" date, probably with some other woman's husband; she had a pro- pensity for that sort of thing, like a good many young folks, in this "free" and sans souci period. Anjou Joujou was there, with his usual lazy spirit. He was thirty-two 79 On to the White House years old, but he still had to feel the sen- sation of his first day's work. He was short, stocky, with a big belly and an high waist line, and his dreamy face was sprinkled with a few freckles. Outside of these special features, he was good- looking, and carried himself with an air of arrogance and haughtiness. He usu- ally carried a cane, for walking was strenuous for " Brownie," as he was familiarly known among his intimates. He also carried a pocket-size, de luxe edition vanity case and availed himself of its mechanism periodically, like the silly, savage girls with rufic, pomic faces. Occasionally, he donned golf togs, but did not play golf; partly, be- cause it was too much work ; partly, be- cause the lowly rabble — every plumber, 80 On to the White House paperhanger and porter — was indulg- ing in it, and lie felt about it like the true-blooded Scotchman, with his parsi- mony, even expressing itself in words: "that golf is for rich, old men, when they get too old to chase women, to chase balls around the links." Brownie's father, the late Bijou Jou- jou, was a retired merchant of consid- erable wealth, who left a large estate to the widow. There were two sons, An- jou and an older brother, who held a responsible executive position in the commercial world. Brownie maintained a fictitious office in a loop skyscraper, for no one was ever successful in locating it. It was also a nomadic one, since his headquar- ters were periodically transferred from 81 On to the White House one building to another. His office tele- phone numbers were changed likewise, but they were not bogus ; only you could never get him on the line when you called, for he was always out on busi- ness. Where his office was located and what it looked like, and what the nature of his business was, no one was ever able to find out. The family always told about Anjou doing big things in a big way, a versatile business man, con- stantly shifting from one colossal en- terprise to another. Whenever a relative or friend met Anjou in the loop, he was holding up the pillars of a skyscraper, gazing up- ward and onward through space, above the heads of the rushing throng; or shopping for bargains in some cold- 82 On to the White House blooded, fake chain five and ten cent or dollar store, where the concomitant dimes and dollars, that foolishly roll in, are transferred to Wall Street, before they are deposited in the local banks, there to be withdrawn by these wily catenarchists for such platitudinous budgets as maintaining young girls in lavish apartments, or married maidens aboard sumptuous yachts, or flying trips to Europe with chorus girls to revel in the coarseness and sensuous- ness of the bohemian capitals. A short time before his father passed away, Brownie had been indicted by the federal grand jury, on a serious federal charge, and the case came up for trial in the United States District Court at Chicago. It was only after the elder 83 On to the White House Joujou and Teufel had spent fifty thousand dollars in obstructing the wheels of justice, and Teufel himself had brought to bear all the tremendous influence that he wielded in his secret lodge orders, and all the powerful influ- ence that he had with the German judges in Chicago, that the case was finally docketed and the indictment eventually quashed. These were trying times for the family! Moments of feverish excitement, hours of tense sus- pense, days of untold agony! But the powerful lawyer, Teufel, emerged from it all victorious, triumphant ! A doting father, a lover of his family, he did his stoic duty, and he won his battle of battles ! Royale Sartor was there, too. He was 84 On to the White House the very antithesis of Brownie in every respect, except one. The one thing he had in common was that he too could not make a living for his family, but under quite different conditions. Royale was twenty-four years old, of medium height, well proportioned and good- looking for a man. Although he was a city-bred lad, he was rather unsophis- ticated. He dressed in gaudy clothes and bright colors. Through the influ- ence of Brownie he was the possessor of a cane, but seldom carried it. When he was all rigged out on Sunday, he reminded one of Oliver Goldsmith all togged up for a date with his literary cronies at their favorite bohemian haunt, or of Benjamin Disraeli in his peculiar flash of raiment when deliver- 85 On to the White House ing a speech in the House of Commons. Unlike Anjou, Royale had none of the advantages of schooling and educa- tion. Anjou dropped out of high school because it was too much work to walk to school and climb the stairs, and re- quired too great an effort to prepare the lessons and recite in class. Royale, how- ever, dropped out of school at the age of eleven to go to work and help support himself. He was an only child, but the father had an hard time trying to eke out enough to provide for the mere ne- cessities of the small family, as a clerk in a department store. Eoyale started out as an errand boy at an age when most boys today are still tied to their mothers' " apron strings" — only most mothers do not 86 On to the White House wear aprons nowadays, for they have so little work in their tiny, cookless domi- ciles, and, besides, applied cosmetics could not withstand the shock of copious work — and cry when they are not at home to put them to bed at seven o'clock, with a glass of artificial, fake chain dairy milk, so full of negative cal- ories. He plodded along from one job to another, until he broke into the cloth- ing industry. He learned this business well enough to go on the road selling. He was a respectable salesman, travers- ing the country, doing a respectable business and earning a respectable sal- ary. He was getting along well, until the American people decided that Shakespeare was all wrong, that "for the apparel oft proclaims the man" 87 On to the White House should be permuted to "for the automo- bile always proclaims the man." The resultant horseless era of good-will de- moralized the industry struck up by the successors of Adam and Eve outside the pale; and gave rise to the sheepless twin-trousers fake chain dealing in a mere outline of the industry. Conse- quently, Royale was gracefully and graciously let out, after long years of faithful and fitting service. In quest of a job for simple suste- nance, and unable to do anything except dumb drumming, Royale became a drummer in one line after another ; but he could not sell sufficient volume to the "needless, demandless" consuming pub- lic of enlightened prohibition days, to bring home a check each week large 88 On to the White House enough to defray the necessary house- hold expenses. So Teuf el, with a lot of loose, petty cash around home, offices, and safety deposit boxes, put it all to- gether in one lump sum and purchased the site for the erection of a six flat apartment building in the Rogers Park residential section of the city; and turned this real estate enterprise over to Royale to manage as his future vocation. Royale read the blue prints for the " modern prison home" about as well as a college student reads his text books. He was busy as the proverbial bee while the dwarf skyscraper rose to midget heights. He was in everybody's way from the architect to the black-faced hod carrier. His personal business 89 On to the White House cards now read PHONE DEVON 8281 ROYALE Sartor AGENT AND MANAGER FOR APARTMENT BLDGS. REAL ESTATE DEALER 6940 KENMORE AVE. CHICAGO. ILL. The family presently spoke about the modern Astor of Chicago, the ground landlord; the earth entrepreneur, the "dirt" capitalist. As a matter of fact he was nothing more than janitor and handy utility man. Another big man at a big job! After eating heartily the entire fam- ily went into the living room to lounge around and chat; and naturally pro- ceeded to discuss family affairs. 90 On to the White House "A half a dozen of my supposed friends have been telling me this week about the terrible things that Lesbia has been doing lately. Did you ever hear the like of it? City people are getting to be as gossipy as country hayseeds. It is nothing but pure and simple jealousy of Lesbia, and, in fact, of all of us that causes this outburst of lies and accusa- tions. I am not going to have anything to do with any of them anymore — ," began Belinda. "You know I have had the same ex- perience all week with my supposed friends, too," broke in Miranda. "I don't understand it. It's disgusting." Brownie had fallen sound asleep. He had put in a strenuous day. At the din- ner table he had packed away enough 91 On to the White House food for two husky grave diggers work- ing overtime on a good " pineapple" day. A tough age to live in, this one of keen, cut-throat competition! "I think there must be some truth to all this gossip about Lesbia by all our good friends. I don't care what any of you say. Everyone can't be wrong," frankly intercepted Royale. ' ' The fam- ily is to blame. If you would put her to work at something, instead of letting her run around idly and aimlessly, with all the money and clothes she wants, there would not be any room for tooth- less talk and gypsy gossip." 1 ' Ach du lieber ! Ach du lieber ! My baby girl! My baby girl, Lesbia!" shrieked Mrs. Teufel, in her high- pitched, screeching voice, a cross be- 92 On to the White House tween clamorous Chinese and singing Swedish ; and she keeled over in a slight swoon. "How dare you! Royale! How dare you!" shouted Miranda with all the wrath of Peleus' son, Achilles, her face as red as the care-free co-ed who, in her mad rush to make an eight o'clock, by mistaken identity, through the half- closed eye process — good reason — has applied lip stick to her coquettish coun- tenance. "Royale, if you do not retract that statement and apologize to the family at once, I will divorce you right away." "I love you too much to let anything like that spoil our happiness and har- mony. I only meant it for the good of Lesbia and the family. So I will do as 93 On to the White House you demand." And he pressed his lips to hers. ' ' What 's the matter ? What 's this all about? You spoiled my nap," popped up Brownie, as he rubbed his easy-going eyes with his lazy thumbs. "Gee, I am tired!" And he fell back in his easy chair. How he envied the snail and the lizzard ! ******* It was the middle of July, a beautiful Wednesday evening. Beaconsfield and his mother came to spend the evening with Aunt Rossa and Uncle Herr Louie again. The sisters drifted off to the kitchen to exchange the latest recipes for cakes from Parisian chefs. Uncle Herr Louie and Beaconsfield were left to themselves once more and they im- 94 On to the White House mediately launched upon another one of their colorful and sparkling discussions of present day life and affairs. ******* "You are all 'wet' liquorly, theoreti- cally, fundamentally, and otherwise, my dear Uncle Herr Louie. Prohibition is the greatest and most momentous prob- lem that ever confronted a nation in the entire history of mankind, at this mo- ment imperiling our tottering civiliza- tion ; it is the most forced and arbitrary law ever conceived and dedicated by the mind of man, in sole defiance of the in- exorable laws of God and nature, a chal- lenge to God on his own stamping- ground. "Prom time immemorial, in the first faint vestiges of the early dawn of his- 95 Ox to the White House tory, down through eons of slowly mov- ing millenia, when the seed of an an- cient China, the glory of Old Babylon, the renown of nurtured Nineveh, the fame of cherished Chaldea, the petrified Pharaohs of Egypt, the sizzling splen- dour of Solomon, the surging Sheba of Ethiopia, the mass merger of the Medio- Persian Empire, and the mundane-con- quering Macedonia of Alexander flashed across the silver screen of mighty, pris- tine nations, empires and civilizations, to the rise and fall of Athens and Sparta, the aspiring ascension and des- olate decadence of eternal Rome, the coming and passing of Charlemagne's Empire and the Holy Roman Empire, and the collapse of the German Empire ; from Egyptian slave-drivers, Persian 96 On to the White House revelers, Macedonian persecutors and Roman fiddlers to Q-othic destroyers, Scandinavian invaders, Spanish Inquis- itors, Holy Roman Crusaders and Rus- sian harrassers, its counterpart has never been known; the temerity and audacity of its sweeping arraignment has never been witnessed. " Prohibition gives nothing; it takes everything- It is the biggest piece of hypocrisy that clever Yankee ingenuity ever made the American people swallow — ostensibly, down dry, dessicated throats. It is the world's sham of shams. It is the world's standing joke. It has made America the laughing stock of the world. The saloon remains today big- ger and stronger than ever; only the open, legitimate front has been replaced 97 On to the White House by a ' cigars and tobacco' front, and every other conceivable kind of false front, resurrected rear, and bequeathed bottom. " Prohibition is the proud parent of several new types of arch criminal, hitherto unknown in the annals of America; foremost, the government agents of the department, parasites, grafters, corruptors, who stink in their own stench and whose foul-smelling and odoriferous deeds have corrupted and tainted every branch of public office and trust and every type of politician and office holder ; tantamount, even surpass- ing, Sicilian gangsters, undreamed of before, the most influential and danger- ous element in our national life, the greatest menace in the land today whose 98 On to the White House pernicious roots have penetrated the en- tire fabric and structure of American society and permeated every form of legislative body from the United States Senate down to the vicious village of Cicero (poor Marcus Tullius!). "In future generations, when stu- dents of history will study the rise of mighty nations and empires of the past and the cause of their fall into the tram- pled dust of oblivion, in coming across the name of the greatest of nations, the United States of America, they will learn that the main immediate and un- derlying cause of her downfall was the Eighteenth Amendment to the Federal Constitution. Historians will marvel at the empyrean heights of glory and re- nown attained; they will stand in awe 99 On to the White House at the dizzy depths of decadence reached; and will shudder with tremor at the celerity and abruptness of her dazzling decline and precipitous descent downward. Books on history will pro- claim to the world that homo sapiens Americanus was the most asinine of past civilized creatures when he allowed American legislators to pull blindly over his eyes the most notorious and egregious piece of constitutional amend- ment to the greatest and most famous Constitution that ever fell to the lot of man to frame. Historical critics and analysts will assert in positive form that Prohibition was the stumbling block, the Pons Asinorum (the Bridge of Asses), the Tantalus-stone of the United States of America, the mightiest 100 On to the White House and wealthiest nation that the sun ever set upon. "What we need here in these United States today is a strong, dynamic Presi- dent, a man with a marked, magnetic personality whose far-flung voice would be heard around the land and whose out- stretched hand would reach the outposts of the dominion; a man in the White House who would not reign, but who would rule with an iron fist, who would be the source and the incarnation and the spirit of the visible government and the invisible. The 'Big Four' of the White House, the 'Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse', are gone, but their acts and deeds are not forgotten. George Washington made the country. Abra- ham Lincoln saved the country. Wood- 101 On to the White House row Wilson saved the world. Theodore Roosevelt saved American virility and Americanism. "What the present dire and almost hopeless condition of affairs demands is another outstanding immortal, a ver- itable superman, to place about the Round Table of the 'Big Pour.' He must have the dual entity of Lincoln and Roosevelt in order to save America and American virility and Americanism again. Among other things, we need a man big enough to do away with Pro- hibition and to restore sane temperance. We need a man big enough to put through an alien exclusion bill barring all Sicilian gangsters from our doors forever. We need a man big enough to establish a national penal colony on a 102 On to the White House deserted, devious island somewhere out in the ocean where we can banish all the Sicilian gangsters who are native-born and naturalized citizens. " There is only one man now living in this 'land of the free and home of the brave' who has common horse sense and common horse backbone enough to save America, standing on her last leg and scintillating with her last spark of life. This superman is no other than the man with the ' Brown Derby' who hails from the ' Sidewalks of New York. ' "My dear Uncle Herr Louie, I take great pleasure in introducing to you the Honorable Alfred Emmanuel Smith, four times Governor of New York. 'But, ah, there's the rub!' We Christians are more barbarian than the heathen Ro- 103 On to the White House mans. Two thousand years ago Vergil, the greatest of Roman poets, exclaimed : 'Tros Tyriusve mihi nullo discrimine agetur' — ' Trojan or Tyrian will be treated by me without discrimination. ' He inculcated racial and religious toler- ation. The Emperor Marcus Aurelius was among the most tolerant of pagans of the ancient world, far more tolerant than any ruler or potentate in this mod- ern age of enlightened Christianity. America has lost her deep sense of Christian tolerance, and so Al Smith is crucified, politically and morally, on the cross of religion. "In ante-Volstead days the United States Senate was the most august and dignified and powerful legislative body in the history of nations. Volsteadism 104 On to the White House is one of the major reasons for its ebul- lition and evaporation, leaving a resi- due that is the foulest and filthiest legis- lative scum of the present day, just as, in the domain of ethnology, the Huns are the foulest and filthiest racial scum of the earth ever since the days of Attila, the ' Scourge of God.' "In the sane, happy days before ' Eden-Garden blindfolding,' we con- jured the name of the Senate only with a profound sense of awe and reverence ; today in this religiously prohibitive era of self-abnegation, we mock and deride, we hiss and taboo the mere mention of its former fair name. In the Senate seats, such illustrious names as Chaun- cey M. Depew, Henry Cabot Lodge, Al- bert J. Beveridge, Oscar W. Under- 105 On to the White House wood, Albert B. Cummins and the elder Robert M. LaFollette are today as rare as honest, honorable lawyers and judges. Lamentably, we find these sacred seats filled by every type of perfidious and pernicious character representing every noxious and nefarious interest in hu- man society. " Sicilian gangsters are ably and pro- portionately represented by Senators whose main function is to attend every gangster's elaborate funeral, there to hobnob with gregarious gangland and hold improvised party caucuses, sur- rounded by retinues of bodyguards teeming with concealed weapons and ar- mored cars that would make the United States Secret Service and Scotland Yard seem amateurish and asinine. 106 On to the White House Every type of lobby and lobbyism that the human imagination could possibly perceive, in the most perverted form, is represented in the Senate; climaxing with the megaphonious and mephisto- phelious lobbyists of the polychrome de- nominations of the Protestant churches. Uncle Herr Louie, it is high-time to cleanse the Augean Stables. "The ethics and the decorum of the professions and the professional sphere are but a faint and dismal trace on the horizon of a sinking world. Judges on the bench and lawyers at the bar have tossed the religion of jurisprudence on the funeral pyre of burning hell. Tlie astonishing and unprecedented increase in crime, the alignment of crime with politics, the mockery of justice and the 107 On to the White House iniquity of fairness in the courtroom throughout this land of Webster and Choate are, in great measure, due to the 'ethiclessness' of the legal macrocosm. "We can bow our bared heads in hu- miliation to that democracy of England where crime is controlled and held to a minimum, where justice is speedily and fairly meted out with an iron hand and a square fist, where bench and bar up- hold their status and dignity, and study and practice legal ethics and jurispru- dence. "The kid president of the University of Chicago in his inaugural address stressed the point that one of the major cleanups of his administration would be to institute new methods of teaching in the law school. The poor, disillusioned 108 On to the White House baby president! The panting, prema- ture youth who looks out on degenerat- ing America through a periscope from cloistered halls of learning! He does not know that the fault is lack of legal ethics and not of new methods of in- struction. He does not know that, be- neath the silhouetted sky line of the Gothic architecture, on the adumbrated campus of his school the lives of the students are not safe and the wholesale rape of the Sabine women may be per- petrated again by gang Quarenta Due, a juvenile subsidiary of the Big Gang, and granted immunity by police and judges." " Another one of your incomparable masterpieces, Beaconsfield! But I do not agree with you. You are all wrong.' ' 109 On to the White House "My dear Uncle Herr Louie, I am sorry, but I could hardly expect you to agree with me." Beaconsfield knew Uncle Herr Louie as well as any nephew could know an uncle. He knew that the lawyer Teuf el had absolutely no legal scruples and was utterly devoid of all professional ethics. He knew that there was no case too petty and too wicked for him to "stoop to conquer." He knew that he had secured his first foothold in the le- gal world many years before — when, through German influence and "lodge" pressure, he was appointed legal repre- sentative for a denominational home for orphan and wayward girls on the south shore of the city — by taking both sides of almost every case involving contribu- 110 On to the White House ting to the delinquency of these minor girls. These bilaterally bled cases by the exoterically frigid Teuf el sacrificed up- on the crucifix of pecuniarism the inno- cent illegitimate babes of these unfor- tunate girls for the selfishness of his own babes. Beaconsfield also knew that his law- yer uncle in later years had specialized in divorce cases, particularly those of the scandalous " eternal triangle' ' type. If there were only cases of the quadri- lateral genus, how Teufel would grab them with his sinisterdexterous hands! The polylateral Uncle Herr Louie claimed for the bulk of his clientele Germans with a foreign accent and col- ored folk with chronic trouble. They trusted their " all" in him, and gave him 111 On to the White House their money for investment and their diamonds for safekeeping, usually with- out any form of receipt. Beaconsfield knew too that the law- yer-private banker and pawnbroker handled the greater part of his versatile business beyond the jurisdiction of the courts, in the inner sanctums of his sev- eral private offices, at rendezvous of secret fraternal orders, behind battered doors of shabby clients, or in the liquor- smelling, hell-hole offices of city judges and suburban justices of the peace. The nephew was aware that when his uncle did appear in court, it was before a friend judge, usually German, upon whom he could generally count for a favorable decision. It was a known fact that before a certain suburban judge he 112 On to the White House was known never to have lost a single case, no matter how many sides he took ; this " fixed' ' court room had been his happy hunting-ground for years and a grand source of predatory revenue for the luxuries and laxities of the Teuf els. Because of this infallible reputation as a dynamic legal artist, many a notori- ously famous case with the evidence preponderantly negative was turned over to the all- winning law juggler on a change of venue. In a recent case of this type that attracted state-wide pub- licity, involving a police department and an handful of chorus girls, court was held in the amphitheatre of this fashionable suburb to accommodate the vast throng of spectators, society mat- rons rubbing shoulders with German 113 On to the White House washerwomen and dusky mammies. "Good-luck" Teufel actually lost money on this typically American case — as he knew in advance — , but it gave him newspaper columns and Blackstonian limelight. As a result many thousands of dollars of litigation flowed in; one interested spectator, a malodorous judge, gave him a large probate case that netted profit in the four figure col- umn. Beaconsfield was also aware that Uncle Herr Louie was an uncompro- mising Prohibitionist, a protagonist for keeping the amendment intact on the statute books ; for it was another pred- atory source of eternal revenue. Like most lawyers and legislators he voted dry and drank wet. 114 On to the White House Citizen Teuf el paid regular quarterly visits, just as big corporations pay reg- ular quarterly dividends, to French Lick and West Baden, Indiana. It was the rendezvous for gamblers, politicians and lawyers, where they drank the wa- ter, flirted with the women and materi- ally buttressed their future income. Some of them, including Teufel, were interested in a pure egg farm there; they did not throw the ovals at each other, like college students, but brought them home to their families for purity of mind and soul. A niece of Uncle Herr Louie and cousin to Beaconsfield had recently passed away after an operation. Shortly before her demise, she had swung the large probate case of the wealthy late 115 On to the White House husband of one of her dear and inti- mate friends to Uncle Herr Louie. He had promised her one half of the large fee when received. He now tried to set- tle with her husband in a sinister and insidious fashion. He offered him the remaining five empty lots of the plot of six graves where his young wife was buried. The entire plot belonged to an- other wealthy uncle of Beaconsfield and his late cousin. The widower was offered this cemetery subdivision in lieu of the fifty per cent probate fee. Uncle Herr Louie was to pay the other uncle for the full plot out of the potential fee when the estate was settled. Uncle Herr Louie had it all cunningly planned out; the widower nephew was to receive the eter- nal land, the uncle nothing and he him- 116 On to the White House self was to retain the entire fee; for payment was contingent upon settle- ment of the estate, and the latter would be in litigation until the case would be old and forgotten. * * * # # * # Lesbia kept up her dates with greater frequency and with greater variety. She dated them all, afternoon and eve- ning, day in and day out; young and old, rich and poor, single and married, handsome and ugly, polished and un- couth, in fact, almost anything that would please a queen. She had attained the age and sophistication when she usually came home, after communion with the other sex, inebriated with the joy of life and violation of Prohibition. The almost diurnal imbibing of hard 117 On to the White House liquid made her weak in the legs and knees, and it was not an uncommon oc- currence to see her escorted to the very door of the Teufels' apartment. Her bibulousness instilled in her a proclivity for ephemeral cohabiting with many of her dapper dates. Her headquarters were the Hotel Villa Roma and she was gradually gaining a city-wide repu- tation. Jerry Jack Carter, familiarly known as Jack, was now fast becoming a regu- lar dater with Lesbia ; he was a consis- tent courter and an insistent suitor. He either did not know Lesbia J s reputation, or else did not care anything about it. He liked her, for she had a winsome way, and he was determined that she should be an uxorial adjunct. 118 On to the White House Jack was twenty-two years old, f air- complexioned, refined and of manly mien. He had an high school and busi- ness college training, and was a charm- ing conversationalist with a fund of humor. He was a good business man, and with an older brother was engaged in the garage and automobile sales busi- ness on Broadway, in the Wilson Ave- nue district of the city. They had worked up a large volume of trade and were prospering. Jack's life and char- acter were impeccably chryselephantine and proved an anomaly in contrast to that of Lesbia. As the months rolled by and winter passed and Spring set in, Jack brought his candid courtship of Lesbia to a whirlwind finish. On a balmy Spring 119 On to the White House day, when love was in the air — to be pre- cise, Primrose Day, April 19th — , he asked Lesbia to become his bride. She was reluctant, but he merely thought it was the way of girls today. Finally, after much persuasion and tender adu- lation, she accepted the invitation. They decided to elope that afternoon to Crown Point, Indiana, just across the state line. They found the all-marrying Hoosier justice of the peace in his na- tionally famous office, inflicting vulner- able wounds upon hymeneal couples, in this worriless era of experimental mar- riage and sacredless vows. After mak- ing Jack and Lesbia man and wife, the egregious evolver of connubial calamity hit the cuspidor many feet away with his brown tobacco juice, planted a kiss 120 On to the White House on the lips of the bride and wished her many children in the future. "Gee, that's gorgeous! I love mar- ried life," exclaimed the five minute bride, blushing like the simple school girl after her first kiss in the penumbra of the lunar spotlight. "Darling, I feel the same about it, but it hardly seems a realization as yet. "Let's send a telegram to .your folks, dear, and get their benediction." "That's just gorgeous. Gee, I didn't think about that!" When girls are in- dulged in and spoiled by their parents, the latter become excess baggage and are impediments to the formers' fickle and frivolous life. "Honey, then let's catch a train for New York and spend our honeymoon 121 On to the White House in the city, where we can hear her sing- ing mayor sing his own popular songs in the cabarets on Broadway in the fresh hours of the early morning." " That's gorgeous! I'll just love that. You are such a dear." "When we return, we'll take a kit- chenette apartment in a hotel on the north side of Chicago and you can keep house and cook, sweetheart." "Dearie, I am such a gorgeous cook and I just love to prepare fancy meals. For breakfast corn flakes and 'Toddy.' Anchovies and bottled banana fritters for dinner. Don't these dainties make your mouth water, dearie? I know you'll just love everything I'll make." "I can hardly wait, sugar. It'll be great!" 122 On to the White House "Gorgeous !" The bride and groom took a eab for the station and ordered the driver to stop at the first drug store. * * * * * * * After a six weeks' honeymoon in the East — a typical twentieth century one, the outstanding features of which were to keep plenty of money in circulation and to reduce their weights by lassitude of physique — , Jack and Lesbia settled down in a lazy, unsanitary, unhealthf ul, prison-enshrouding hotel kitchenette near the Teufels. Lesbia kept up her former fickle and frivolous life, except in one respect — she went to bed with no cavalier but her husband. Jack was re- luctantly satisfied and said nothing, for he loved his red-headed bride. She spent 123 On to the White House all of his large income in the same fash- ion that she used to waste the grand allowance bequeathed her as a girl by her father. The telephone bill at the hotel the first month was ninety dollars ; Jack spent an entire afternoon at his office checking and double-checking and triple-checking the many calls and found that there were relevant calls to the extent of one dollar and fifty cents ; the remainder of the long train of ex- changes and numbers could have been expressed by the one word " gorgeous.' ' As the summer months passed by, Lesbia's married life seemed less of a reality. Her hair grew redder — she vis- ited periodically the shop with the big red sign — , she cosmeticized to the point where her face resembled a waxen model 124 On to the White House in the show windows along Michigan Boulevard, her clothes became less and lighter, her jewelry became more bar- barous and more conspicuous; she had her first meal yet to prepare, and she slept all morning and smoked cigarettes and telephoned all afternoon. She was the busiest damsel in her native city and had no time for babies. "When great leaves fall, the winter is at hand." It was the late equinoxial season of autumn. Jack's brother, Prank, had been so interested and ab- sorbed in the business that he ate little, slept less and devoted his entire time and energy to its progress and develop- ment. His health was gradually begin- ning to give way, his vitality was low and his resistance was poor. Through 125 On to the White House carelessness he took one of those heavy Pall colds and paid no attention to it. This neglect concatenated with his low vitality and poor resistance created an healthy breeding ground for active tu- bercle bacilli, and an incipient case of pulmonary tuberculosis developed. The family physician ordered him immedi- ately to seek the salubrious, dry climate of the Southwest in order to arrest the case in the nascent stage and prevent collapse of the left lung. Jack and Frank were discussing the doctor's orders in their private office the following morning. Jack recalled that the day before an automobile accesso- ries traveling-man had informed him that there was a large garage and auto- mobile sales agency with a complete ac- 126 On to the White House cessory department for sale in Albu- querque, New Mexico, at a ridiculously low price. This was an unusual oppor- tunity in the heart of the arid South- west. They decided to negotiate at once for the purchase of the New Mexican enterprise, to dispose of their Chicago business and to move out to the metrop- olis of that healthy state — there to re- main until Frank's health was restored. In a short time Frank — who was single — , Jack and Lesbia were speed- ing across the western part of the United States on one of the crack, de luxe transcontinental trains of the Santa Fe, en route to Albuquerque. Lesbia was happy. It was new country and new en- vironment. The people were different and the scenery was different. Lesbia 's 127 On to the White House aunt from the country had given her an heaping box of delicious, home-made cookies as a gift and token of remem- brance. She threw them out of the win- dow, without even tasting them. Jack was indignant to think that his wife had such an inane sense of flying gratitude and let her know how he felt about it after her aunt had spent an half a day in the kitchen getting them in finished form. She thought it was an huge joke. "Well, gee whiz, I didn't want us all to choke on that hard-tack on the train, and that was the easiest way to get rid of it ! Besides, mamma always told me that crumbs from sweet cookies bring mice and we don't want to be bothered with those pesky little things on the 128 On to the White House train." Jack's tongue became confused and started to waggle. "Oh, rats!" And he put a cigarette in his mouth. Lesbia leaned over and gave him a smacking big kiss that left its impress of lip stick on the side of his cheek. "Gee, this is a gorgeous trip! I feel gorgeous." And she ran her hand with its fiery-red nails through her danger- ous hair which needed the attention of the fire extinguisher on the Pullman, rather than the beauty expert in the Observation car. As they alighted from the train and shook the desert dust from their clothes, Lesbia burst out into a shout of laugh- ter. "Gee, look at the Indians! Aren't they gorgeous?" She had never seen 129 On to the White House that ethnological group before. Indians are on hand to greet the ar- rival of every train at the railroad sta- tion in Albuquerque. They offer their hand-made pottery and Navajo rugs at any price you will pay. " Dearie, aren't all these things just gorgeous? Let's buy a lot of them and send them back to Chicago for gorgeous little gifts." "We have plenty of time, honey. We'll be here a long time yet. First, let's get to the hotel and clean up and rest a while." Jack, Lesbia and Frank occupied a suite of rooms at the Toledo De Alcazar, one of the finest small hotels in the country. It was constructed of adobe dried in the sun, and was a composite of Spanish and Indian architecture. It 130 On to the White House was an outstanding example of the blending of Mexican and the Jemas and Navajo tribes of Indians with modern America. Every meticulous detail was of in- terest to the trio and every time they turned they observed something new and heard something different. Span- ish was the spoken language and Mexi- can dishes were the common menu. Tor- tillas and enchiladas were the regular order of the day, just as pie and chew- ing tobacco are to the New England Yankee of Vermont and New Hamp- shire. The majority of the meagre popula- tion was Mexican and Indian and the minority was made up of " whites'' afflicted with some form of tuberculo- 131 On to the White House sis. A well " white" in this country was as rare and nebulous as a girl today who does not rough-red her face, or a co-ed who does not smoke cigarettes.. The famed Rocky Mountains, at their southern extremity, faded away into the beautiful Sandia — " Watermelon' ' — Mountains. At the tail-end of the latter stood Albuquerque, majestic, a mile above sea level, cradled in Nature's deepest beauty, kissed by the most glo- rious climate, basking in the pure sun- shine of unmarred ages, untouched by the wavering hand of drooping man. It was a revelation and a religion to be free from the fetters of artificial, man-made life of the Coolidge and Hoo- ver administrations, to live once more the simple, natural life of spontaneity 132 On to the White House and freedom ; to be in the midst of "that corner of the world smiles for me above all others.' ' After a few months in this beautiful and wonderful land of nature where life is worth while living, Lesbia grew tired of its seeming monotony and simplicity and longed for a return to her old life of artificiality and city confusion and sensuality. She finally persuaded Jack to the idea that a trip for one to Los Angeles for the remainder of the win- ter would be ideal. She had never vis- ited one of America's two wicked win- ter playgrounds and she visioned, with anticipated joy and fervor, Hollywood, movie actresses and Pacific voluptuous- ness. Lesbia wrote her "bachelor-husband" 133 On to the White House beautiful letters describing the beauti- ful spot and the good time she was hav- ing. She kept her wedding ring off of the allotted finger, became acquainted with a wealthy, elderly man and lived at one of the fashionable hotels with him. She felt no compunctions about it and thought it was great sport to get by with the rape of one of the Ten Com- mandments. However, " murder will always out." One of Jack's intimate friends living at the same hotel suspected the illicit af- fair and wrote him about it. Jack caught the first train for Los Angeles and found his unfaithful wife in the same room and in the same bed with the man who comes from that stratum of society where this mode of life is an in- 134 On to the White House tegral part of his shallow and inane existence. " Caught in the act" and unable to swerve her husband in his inflexible de- cision, Lesbia immediately telegraphed her father to depart at once for Los An- geles, as she was in distress and needed his assistance. Fatherly Teufel broke down and sobbed in audible tears when his red-headed daughter apprised him of the trend of modern society. Both Teufel and Lesbia literally got down on their knees and imploringly begged of Jack to forgive his erring wife and take her back. But Jack was adamant and would not retract one iota, nor relent one inch of ground. He, too, was visibly affected ; his lily-white heart was broken. 135 On to the White House The lawyer Teufel, with all the tact and diplomacy of his profession, had brilliantly pleaded his greatest case and he had lost. Jack secured a divorce from Lesbia on the grounds of adultery, without con- test, in exactly two minutes and thirty- seven seconds. There was no alimony involved, but it was mutually agreed in the brandy-bottle stacked office of the divorce-decreeing judge — a Teufel crony — that the divorce proceedings would not be made public and would be kept out of the newspapers. The Teufel family presently spoke about the terrible things that Jack had done ; how mean and cruel he had been to the unfortunate red-head; what a good for nothing rascal he was. They 136 On to the White House stressed the point that Lesbia obtained the divorce and was granted a substan- tial amount of alimony. Back home again, a " perfect virgin' ' once more by the unanimous decree of the laws and the courts, Lesbia took up her old life and her old haunts ; she was happy that she was free from the bonds of matrimony and could do as she pleased again. The doting family in- dulged in her more than ever and she had more money and gowns than in her former single state. About a year later Lesbia met Bel- mont Sanford at a public dance. He was a clever young business man who had very recently come to Chicago as western manager of an eastern fake chain of men's exclusive hat stores. This 137 On to the White House Wall Street catenarchy had just out- lined an expansion program which in- volved invasion of the Chicago area and nearby centres with many stores. Bel- mont was the head of this arterial divi- sion, at an annual salary in excess of six thousand dollars. He was a dapper young man, good-looking, stately and refined. He was not acquainted in the city and was quite lonesome. In less than ten days Belmont was married to Lesbia and they occupied a suite of rooms at the Edgewater Beach Hotel. It appeared to be an ideal mar- riage and the experienced girl of red hair had tamed down like a bird with clipped wings. After twelve weeks of epithalamial bliss the bubble burst. Belmont gradu- 138 On to the White House ally grew cold toward his warm bride, finally deserted her and sued for di- vorce. According to the bill for divorce as filed, the plaintiff had never had car- nal knowledge of any woman until wed- lock and now he was the innocent victim of a venereal disease which he alleged had been transmitted to him by his wife. To atone for the crime the plaintiff de- manded ten thousand dollars alimony. The case came up before the judge who handled the bulk of the divorce suits in the city. He was a personal friend of Teufel, but there was not much that he could do for him since the evidence was convincingly against his wayward daughter. The judge granted Belmont a clear, unattached divorce with the full amount 139 On to the White House of alimony demanded in order to keep the case a closed book and to avoid all publicity and notoriety. Lesbia and the rest of the Teuf el fam- ily informed all their relatives and friends that the poor, unfortunate, short-lived bride secured the divorce with alimony. They told how mean and cruel Belmont was to his young wife; how he abused and beat her and what a brute he was. How the hand of pity and commiseration of the gullible mob went out to Lesbia, the cruel victim of the wiles of men ! For the third successive time the in- cumbency of office of the single state fell to the lot of Lesbia. She was taken back home as an heroine and all the laurels and booty went to her. She grew 140 On to the White House wilder and wilder each day and was gradually coming into her own with a nation-wide and international reputa- tion. Florida, America's wicked winter playground south of the Mason and Dixon line, where land valuations are as hectic and turbulent as a college stu- dent's life, had never been included in the peregrinations of the titian-haired divorcee. Suddenly she launched forth upon an expedition to that famous state, met a crippled man down there, violent- ly made love to him and seriously threatened to bring back this physically minus specimen with her and deposit his distorted form in the Teufel man- sion. She remained'-only three weeks in the groves of oranges and grape fruit, 141 On to the White House but it gave her ample time to leave her impress of lip stick on the men and her impress of personality and character upon the general topography of the land. The colony, which embraced a goodly number from the blase city of Chicago, was shocked, beyond descrip- tion, at the freedom and fastness of her life and its varied activities. Sally Stone was a poor cousin of Les- bia. Her husband, Byron, was sickly, and, when he was able to work, man- aged to knock out a living, after a fash- ion. They had no children and lived in a tidy and respectable small apartment, a few miles from the Teuf els. Sally did all her own work and was happy in her simple life. She had a beautiful charac- ter and a very sunny disposition. Ev- 142 On to the White House eryone who knew her loved her for her sunniness and no one ever saw her angry and without a smile. She had not a single enemy in all the world. Byron had an only brother, Kloris. He was a pious, religious gentleman, with an European accent, who was suc- cessfully married to the daughter of a Bowery " broad.' ' He was quite well- to-do, but as stingy and parsimonious as any mortal could be. He would con- sider it a good stroke of business, if he could smuggle a nickel out of a blind- man's tin cup and get by with it. Kloris and his wife, Aurora, very sel- dom visited with Byron and Sally. They were afraid they would have to do a good turn occasionally, and, perhaps, part with a dollar. 143 On to the White House Byron and Sally felt the pinch of poverty. How true today as yesterday is that world-famous epigram, "pauperies opprobrium' ' — "poverty, life's greatest shame and disgrace!" Because of her personality and its at- tendant charm, Sally had an host of friends and made new friends as easily and readily as a college girl makes dates. Harping upon this enduring and endearing quality in Sally as vantage ground for furthering her own selfish motives and interests, Lesbia came to live with Sally and to use her apartment as a rendezvous for meeting Sally's many friends, for making and breaking dates and for clandestine affairs reach- ing far into the night. She indulged in sodomy in all the many forms that the 144 On to the White House animal desire and passion in the human could conceive. Sally worked harder than ever keep- ing up her apartment neat and tidy — almost to the point of physical exhaus- tion — and was worn out from the many social activities occasioned by Lesbia's presence. Every now and then TTncle Herr Louie and Aunt Rossa gave poor Sally a five or a ten dollar bill for her kindness in entertaining her unfortu- nate cousin, Lesbia. This meager assis- tance helped to keep Byron and Sally from getting further in debt. Among the many callers at Sally's apartment was Agathos Epiboulistan who spent many a night there with Les- bia. He was married and the father of two children. He was an high-powered 145 On to the White House stock and bond salesman who came very near selling two of Lesbia's weal- thy uncles a large block of fake stock. Agathos traced his ancestry back to the sacred myrtle groves of Greece. His father in conjunction with the sacred dynasty of Honk Fu Chin owned a fake chain of cold-blooded, cold-watered laundries. Lesbia fell madly and passionately in love with this Grecian Apollo. She called him over the telephone every afternoon, no matter where he was, and entrusted to him many of the family's diamonds which he never returned. "Then came a change, as all things human change." Suddenly, Sally fell ill with excruciating pains. She consulted the best doctor she could afford and he 146 On to the White House advised a major operation at once of a not very serious nature. The Teufels did not offer her any advice, or assis- tance, pecuniary, or otherwise, nor did they even inform the rest of the large family about her condition. A few days later Sally was operated on by this doctor at his affiliated hospi- tal located in a devious suburb, many miles from the city. He was a young man, with little experience who was ex- perimenting on his few patients. The hospital was small and unsanitary and the nurses were lazy, frivolous, careless and negligent. The operation was pro- nounced a success and the patient was placed in a private room for convales- cence. Sally lay alone in her room, day after 147 On to the White House day, with very little care and attention. Byron was seriously ill at home, under the care of a trained nurse, suffering from a severe attack of tonsilitis and a shattering of the nerves. All the Teu- fels now kept many miles distant from both Sally and Byron; the rest of the family knew nothing about it and the nurses were busy flirting and petting with the doctors and internes in shady spots and nodding nooks about the hos- pital. Six days after the operation periton- itis set in, due entirely to the neglect of the doctor, the carelessness of the nurses and the unsanitary conditions of the hospital. On the same day, by a strange coincidence of affairs, Herr Louie, who had been ailing with chronic appendi- 148 On to the White House citis for some time, abused his big Ger- man belly with a supersaturation of real, alcoholic beer with pretzels and Limburger cheese, and was seized with a very dangerous attack of acute appen- dicitis. He immediately called in one of the leading diagnosticians who ordered an operation the following morning, at the latest, in order to save his life. A nationally known surgeon performed the serious operation successfully at one of the finest and most exclusive hospi- tals in the city. Under the constant care and vigil of two nurses, the crisis was soon passed and the rotund-looking German lawyer was well on the road to rapid recovery. Sally's condition grew worse. The doctor did not show up. The nurses 149 On to the White House dropped in the room occasionally to take a peek at the patient, but did nothing to help her, or to alleviate her pain and suffering. Sally writhed in agony in the sick- bed, twisting her helpless, tormented body from one side to the other, without a flower to cheer her up, or a soul to console her. Her life was slowly ebbing and her spirit was fast waning. Four days later, at one hour past Sunday midnight, alone in the room, she passed away, the blue and purple marks on the throat indicating strangulation. When the nurses made their rounds a few min- utes later, they found the lifeless form ; they did not even drop the eyelids, but notified at once the Teufels, and held the body in the sickroom for ransom 150 On to the White House until the hospital bill would be paid. The Teufels made themselves as scarce as the tribe of gangsters would before a slim handful of Texas Rangers. Morally, they felt it was their solemn duty to notify Kloris immediately. Kloris and Aurora were too busy delv- ing in religion and European back- ground to be bothered with the mere passing of a brother's wife. However, they promised they would be present at the obsequies and last rites. For it would not cost them anything and they would have a free ride to the cemetery I A rich uncle, with an heart as open and magnanimous as a Victorian phi- lanthropist, ransomed Sally's cadaver from the hospital a few hours later. To provide a decent funeral and burial for 151 On to the White House poor Sally — dead in her forty-fifth year — , he hired the services of an hon- est undertaker and footed the bill in toto. Since he was too old to handle the vast amount of details in connection with a funeral, this duty devolved itself upon the shoulders of Beaconsfield ; for all the other available and eligible rela- tives had embarked upon an ad interim "hegira" until the last sad hour. The most painful and tender task that Beaconsfield had to perform was to take Byron, sick and dejected in spirits, over to the chapel and break the news to him of his wife's untimely and premature death. In the chapel and at the cemetery the deepest mourners, wearing the deepest black, shedding the largest, most lachry- 152 On to the White House mose tears, were Kloris and Aurora and the entire Teuf el family, except the pa- tient, Herr Louie, who was resting com- fortably in the hospital, amidst a bank of flowers and a stack of books. Lesbia was about to faint twice, but fear of the presiding preacher kept her from enter- ing that sad state each time. With the lachrymal sod fresh over the grave of Sally, Lesbia decided to start out in quest of a third husband. She also decided that the logical place for this coup d'etat was New York City, the capital of everything except souls. Down deep in the Bowery Lesbia re- ceived an introduction to Epee Motzart IV. He was much younger than Lesbia, handsome, but lazy and inclined to work just enough to knock out a living. His 153 On to the White House paternal great-grandfather had been a villain in France who had been so handy and adroit with the sword that he earned for himself the title "Epee." This nickname came to be applied as the given name and was handed down in the family to each eldest son. For generations the family had been peri- patetic musicians, successors to the old French bucolic troubadours, and like the modern u Hungry Five Bands' ' that play on our streets today. It is in this background that we can trace the origin of the family name Motzart. This " Hungry Five" musical thirst still found expression in the family; Epee IV 's first cousin played tenth violin in a Bowery band. Lesbia fell in love with Epee at first 154 On to the White House sight and asked him to marry her. He thought it would be great sport to be joined in wedlock with a red-headed harlot — he had heard all about her past life and reputation — and live with her until the glamour had worn away. So he accepted her kind proposal and they sang with Spenser his "Epithalamion" — "Upon the Bridal-Couch." The third-time bride told everyone about the wonderful musical family she had married into, about their beautiful villa in France, which did not exist, and about their prosperous business in New York — international spongers, big-time, big-sea fishers of sponges along the At- lantic seaboard south and the coasts of Cuba. It was true they were spongers, but mostly upon society and their neigh- 155 On to the White House bors and friends ! One of the few times that Lesbia had told the truth since she was a youngster was when, in discussing the relative mu- sical merits of their families, she in- formed her husband that she knew she had only ordinary musical talent, but, for ulterior reasons, had given her fam- ily the impression that she was a genius in the realm of music and was cut-out for the stage; she further added that they either foolishly believed it and in- dulged in her to keep her from develop- ing it, or else accepted it with a grain of salt to cover up a multitude of other sins. Scarcely had the bridal-couch been tuned up to a fair degree of warmth, when the newly-weds grew tired of each 156 On to the White House other and incompatibility arose. They separated and the lazy machinery of the corrupt courts ground out another di- vorce in. a few minutes } time, like a package from a fake mail-order house. The following summer the four-time " virgin" Lesbia went up to Bay Rum, Michigan, to cool off. Bay Rum was a summer resort on a small lake, about an hundred miles northeast of Chicago. Alexander Cnute was the sole proprie- tor of the only store that the resort boasted. It was more than the proverbial country general store. Alexander was postmaster, county notary, country law- yer, station agent, baggage smasher, ex- pressman, undertaker, barber, druggist, village doctor, soda jerker, grocer, butcher, dry goods merchant, shoe man, 157 On to the White House furniture outfitter, cobbler, iron mon- ger, farm implement supplier, automo- bile agent, garage man and did a myriad other things, at one and the same time. Despite his many and varied business activities, Alexander found time to write letters, interview salesmen and dish out smiles with humorous twangs of volubility, between wrapping pack- ages and embalming bodies. He carried a long, black beard and his large, dyna- mic body, always in action, caused an exuding of perspiration that rolled down his cheeks in torrents. When the versatile and " pan-monop- olistic" merchant was told by some of his friends from the city who came down every summer that the cold- blooded, fake chain stores would soon 158 On to the White House encroach upon his business and that Bay Rum would become a " deserted village," he chuckled until his large, massive frame shook with laughter. Cnute had an only assistant in the store. It was his sole child and heir, Alexander, Jr. He was twenty-one years old and the exact image of his father. He was born and raised in Bay Rum, had never been farther than ten miles away from the resort, knew everybody there and grew up in the business. He shaved the living by day and the dead by night, handed out with a shy smile the daily love-letter to Mary Ann, the belle of the countryside, from her sweetie up in dry Maine, and sold Auntie Snooks, the village gossip, two cents' worth of pepper, while she 159 On to the White House watched the scales and told Squire Grasshopper about the latest scandal, the country preacher talking to the dea- con 's wife on the street, with the wind blowing high her short dress. Lesbia spent many an hour in the re- sort store, flirting with Alexander, Jr., while he took care of the remotest needs of the customers. The bare-foot country lassies and the head-shaved rustic bach- elors scrutinized her with an evil eye. Bay Rum 's most eligible scion was fas- cinated with her city ways and her charm of conversation. For hours he stood with open mouth, listening to her description of big cities and urban life. One day several weeks later Lesbia decided that the outstanding joke of the 160 On to the White House year would be to kidnap Alexander, Jr. to Chicago and give him a taste of real American life of today. She rustled the country youth out of his native hamlet by night and landed him safely in her dear old Chicago. The first day the mistress of many men got the Michigan lad drunk, se- duced him and raped him. She took him the regular round of hotels, cabarets and road houses, and kissed him and caressed him until he was almost physi- cally exhausted. She settled him at the Hotel Villa Eoma, gave him no time to himself or for sleep, and footed the bills. She made him a virtual prisoner and forced him to marry her. The poor boy from the country be- came lonesome and homesick and longed 161 On to the White House to go back home. He was full of liquor and lie could not eat ; and he cried and he wept. His experienced wife laughed at him and made sport of his old-fash- ioned ways. A few days later Alexander, Jr. slipped out of the Hotel Villa Koma, determined never to see his liquor- smelling wife again. He had drunk to the full of romantic big city life and " beautiful" city girls of today. He was on his way home, back to dear old Bay Rum, with its simple charm and rustic purity. He had not a cent, but he had the determination. He hailed one auto after another and was turned down in rapid succession. Finally the tired lad spied a familiar- looking car. It belonged to one of the 162 On to the White House respectable citizens of Ms native village who was on his way back after a trip to Chicago. He flagged it down and it came to a stop. He was filled with amazement and intermingled joy that his epheme- ral tribulations were at an end. Lesbia was not surprised that Alexan- der, Jr. had deserted her and had gone back, evidently, to Bay Eum. She thought the whole affair was a splendid joke and got a big kick out of it. Her next step was to obtain a divorce on charges of wife abandonment. This was a very simple matter, in these days of almost " divorce for the asking," when judges and lawyers revel in the conse- quent scandal usually attached. The husband - hungry "maiden" thought it was about time now to be on 163 On to the White House the lookout for a spouse. She lost no efforts to meet more men than ever. One of her charming new acquaintances was Marshall Prince who had been a bride- groom an half a dozen times. He was seventy years old — according to the Bible he should die — and the multi-mil- lionaire head of a strategically located small group of large department stores bearing his name. Like most old millionaires Marshall Prince liked young girls. He made love to Lesbia and asked for her heart on short notice. She refused several times, but the aged Croesus retorted by lavish- ing more money and more gifts upon her, in quick succession. At last the vet- eran of the divorce courts accepted the poly-married merchant for her legal 164 On to the White House and lawful help-mate. The red-headed young girl and the grey-haired old man lived together as husband and wife in the mansion on his large estate in Evanston, a suburb of Chicago, until the nuptials could be solemnized by the law, after their pre- vious divorces had run the full period before subsequent marriage as required. Then they went on their honeymoon to California. She chased around with other men ; he with other women. They saw each other very seldom. They each lived their own lives. Early one morning, several weeks later, the age-dispared couple arrived at their honeymoon suite in the hotel, within a few minutes of each other, overloaded with an opulence of Mum's 165 On to the White House Extra Dry Champagne. Out of a trivial nothing a pugnacious altercation en- sued. The fiery bride lapsed into a bel- licose Amazon, broke two chairs, a large wall mirror, the old darling's nose, sent a pair of shoes out of the thirty-ninth story window and inflicted a pair of gorgeous eyes upon the other sex that protruded like large, luscious black melons. This was the end of a " perfect morn- ing/' The pugilists never saw each other again, except in the divorce court. The aged millionaire filed a divorce suit on charges of husband-beating and infidel- ity. Lesbia countered with charges of gross infidelity. A divorce was granted the former, and an one hundred thou- sand dollar cash settlement was made 166 On to the White House upon Lesbia, in lieu of all other claims. Unfettered once more from the bonds of matrimony and out to spend the one hundred thousand dollars change she had received, Lesbia was on the market for young blood. In her new high-pow- ered racer that did one hundred miles per hour in the shade, she made speedy trips to all the big football games at Memorial Stadium, at the University of Illinois. Tom Brown of Illinois, a lineal des- cendant of the famous Tom Brown at Eugby, was the great football star of the country in the superdynamic 1930 's, the worthy successor of the mighty "Red" Grange. He was a senior, a good student, the idol of the campus who could have rated any date in school ; but 167 On to the White House he steered clear of all the girls. The greatest of gridiron heroes was shy, modest, reserved. He drank a little wine occasionally and smoked cigars moder- ately after the football season. He was a member of P I P P A, national social fraternity, Pi Iota Phi Phi Alpha, whose time-honored traditions were housed in Browning's famous "Pippa Passes." Lesbia chased after the most popular fellow on the campus, in much the same fashion that a cat chases after a mouse. Tom finally succumbed to her charming and ensnaring wiles. However, he lim- ited his initial date with her until the pigskin season was at an end. Money flowed freely from Lesbia 's pocketbook ; every time the Illinois aggregation won 168 On to the White House a game — and they did not lose any that year — she gave Tom an one hundred dollar bill to buy himself a box of good cigars. Lesbia arrived at the games with the car full of liquor and her system even fuller. She also always carried along with her a small party of guests. In her accustomed seat at the stadium, she was a yell-leader in a class all by herself and her code of cheering was both original and unique, in keeping with an intoxi- cated young lady. Every time Tom Brown scored a touchdown, or kicked a field goal she burned up a five dollar bill, to the bewilderment and consterna- tion of the crowd around her. At the post-victory Saturday night fraternity dances, Lesbia danced many 169 On to the White House a time with the lower extremity of her short gown high in her hand ; often she slipped off with her partner to the downiness of a tantalizing divan, or to an alluring corner in the subdued light, to snatch a drink or a kiss. After graduating the following June, Tom Brown did not go into professional football or the movies, but accepted a publicity position with one of the larg- est banks in the country, at an high salary. Incidentally, for subscribing his signature to a series of articles to be written by one of the leading feature writers of a syndicate newspaper, he was to receive ten thousand dollars a year. In addition, his royalty rights from candy bars, football parapherna- lia and various other sources would 170 On to the White House mount to enormous figures annually. Tom had been dating with Lesbia on occasional week-ends since the close of the football season. Now he went out with her more often — in fact, regu- larly — , for his position was in Chicago and he lived in suburban Evanston, just a jiffy from the heart of things and from the " revolving' ' loop of the city. The football star who ripped through whole aggregations of well-greaved warriors was progressing well in the outside world. He shunned publicity and spent his private time in company with Lesbia. Unfortunately, his mother suddenly died. After a few months, he decided that he should have an home of his own, and so he asked Lesbia to fur- nish one. She was tickled pink and ac- 171 On to the White House cepted immediately with a broad, as- senting kiss to his lips. Tom longed for and enjoyed the quiet retreat of the home ; but Lesbia always wanted to be on the go. He saw now they were not mated, yet it was too late. He tried to please her and at the same time live as he had always planned and dreamed. It would not work. She made dates with other men. He saw very little of her. A few months later Tom found that his wife was going out with his best friend and old team mate. He asked her a reasonable thing, to give him up, and she refused. So the only alternative was to separate. The arrangement was mutual and a divorce followed, with domestic incompatibility arising out of 172 On to the White House temperamental differences as the casus belli. Lesbia did not ask for any ali- mony ; but Tom, revealing his affection for her down deep in his heart, volun- tarily settled ten thousand dollars upon her. Lesbia presently made up her mind never to marry again. She returned to her old haunt and headquarters, the Hotel Villa Roma. She became chief mistress of this hostelry. The Hotel Villa Roma was the main link in a chain of an hundred hotels scattered throughout the large cities of the country, owned by Alberto Capra, king of the gangsters. Shortly Lesbia advanced to mistress-in-chief of the en- tire chain of hotels, still retaining her headquarters at the Hotel Villa Roma. 173 On to the White House A little later, after Capra had ad- vanced to greater power and fame, Les- bia became his personal mistress and lady-in-waiting. So she lived true to her name, like her prototype, the famous and beloved Lesbia of palmy Eoman days, the im- mortal mistress of the empyrean Roman poet, Catullus, whose amatory and erotic lyrics — inspired by and dedicated to this tender harlot — have been un- eclipsed, down through the ages, in the realm of love and romance. It is now 1940. The complexion and makeup of the United States Senate is entirely changed. It is like a new body in a new world. It is the new order of things. 174 On to the White House Signor Rudolpho Capra, brother of Signor Alberto Capra, king of the gang- sters, is United States Senator from Illinois. The Brothers Capra work to- gether, hand in hand, just as, in ancient times, the Brothers Barca, Hannibal and Hasdrubal, worked together, hand in hand, and finally head in hand. Charles S. Deneen is the colleague of Senator Capra from Illinois. Morally and politically, he is as pure and un- tarnished as he was way back in the dynamic 1920 % when he served the state and the nation. The gangsters in Chicago give him orders; his job and his life are in their hands. He has been told to learn the Sicilian language for the purpose of political caucuses and attendance at banquets and funerals. 175 On to the White House Herbert Clark Hoover wears the Sen- atorial toga from California. Herby has forgotten all about his incumbency in the White House from 1928 to 1932. He has the unique distinction of hold- ing two hundred and sixty honorary degrees from colleges and universities throughout the world, in recognition of his prosperous administration at Wash- ington. In the Senate he represents the British oil interests on the Pacific Coast, the banking house of Rothschild, the London Stock Exchange, the Bank of England and other British financial and business interests. Lord Hoover's room-mate in the Sen- ate is Sam Wah Lee. Senator Lee di- rectly represents San Francisco's Chi- natown, the opium dens of Hollywood, 176 On to the White House the narcotic interests of America and the Chinese chain store capitalists on the West Coast. Alfred Emmanuel Smith hearkened to the call of the state of Mississippi to spend his remaining years down in "the bosom of democracy." The man with the degree from the Pulton Fish Market is the senior Senator for life from that fairest of Southern democracies, swept into office by the largest majority ever accorded a Senatorial nominee in any state. Senator William E. Borah still holds down the job from Idaho. He still sings his old refrain, "this is a Protestant country, we want a Protestant presi- dent," no matter who he is. His col- league in the Senate — he controls the 177 On to the White House state political machine in Idaho — is an ex-convict and murderer who attends a Protestant church on Sunday. Senator J. Thomas Heflin, the vener- able gentleman from Alabama, still takes his accustomed seat when the Vice President swings the gavel. At the age of eleven, his father must have led him to the altar to swear "aeternuum odium ' ' — eternal hatred — against the Roman Catholics; for it is still an ob- session to him. Through the kind offices of Mussolini, a fifteen-round battle has been arranged between Senator Heflin and the Pope at Rome for the heavy- weight religion championship of the world, with Rabbi Stephen A. Wise of New York, a neutral, as referee. Senator Heflin 's colleague from Ala- 178 On to the White House bama is a Sicilian gangster from Bir- mingham, an automatic apostate of Catholicism. He has the unanimous in- dorsement of the invincible Heflin ma- chine. Bishop John Gunn, Jr. of the Metho- dist Episcopal Church South is the incumbent in the Senate from Virginia. Senator Gunn still megaphoniously vociferates throughout the land, "give me Protestantism, or give me death." A leading member of the Christian Science Church recently has voluntarily and gratuitously offered to heal the grey-haired Senator of his long-stand- ing malady so that he can dispense with his sole crutch ; however, Johnny insists that he needs the wooden weapon when he is inquisitioned before the Senate 179 On to the White House lobby investigation committee, to wield as a protecting and special dispensation gavel. The powerful Senator Ghinn advo- cates a repeal of the immigration quotas law, and the passage of a bill restricting immigration to Protestants only, in un- limited numbers, and barring all Catho- lics. This measure would increase the number of Sicilian gangsters entering at Ellis Island. As a negative check, the far-seeing and clear-visioned states- man would later deprive all Catholics, already in the country, of the right of franchise and to own land. The " divine- right'' ecclesiastic is a scholar of wide fame and an authority of international recognition on the Dark Ages of Euro- pean history and the Period of Intoler- 180 On to the White House ance. The state of Texas regularly sends two Texas Rangers to the Senate. They are picturesque figures in Washington, recalling the old days of honest politi- cians and big, stalwart men. Gangsters do not dare to cross the Texas border, for they know they will be mowed down, without warning, by the best shots in the world. The new order of things also domi- nates Wall Street. The old oligarchy has been supplanted by the new oligar- chy — chain store operators and rulers, best described and labeled by the newly coined word catenarchists. This new entity is the leading exponent of the latest economic theory of towns, the " de- serted-village" type of city growth and 181 On to the White House development. Friar Wesley Cottvalor of New York is the power behind the throne in the chain store "five and ten" and dollar field, with thousands of stores dispelled throughout the country. Spurius Sus- picius Crassus of Michigan, who traces his ancestry back to the wealthiest man at Rome, is a close second in this field. Spuma Honorius Crass of South Caro- lina, another Roman; Jackson Georgia Magory of West Virginia, whose ances- tors kissed Old Blarney ; Wycliffe Tony Sherman of Delaware, by propinquity biblical, by consanguinity military; Jerry Jeptha Oldkernel of Rhode Island; General McClellan of Indiana, another picturesque military figure; Necropolitan Stores, Forward and 182 On to the White House Wide Petite Shops, Mike Chromniekel and Brother and Badner Brothers, with the accent on the first syllable, are the colossal giants that remain in the chain variety dollar field. Lady Gee See Murphy Corset Base- ments and Jeriboah Credito Dollar of Florida, whose stores will hire only non-tobacco using Protestants, domi- nate the chain dry goods department store field. Profit Dear and Company and Ape Orphan and Company are the two leading mail-order houses and chain department stores in the country, con- trolled by Wall Street chain interests. Little Lakes to Gulf Cheese Parlors, owned by the Newhaven family of Hartford, Connecticut, have over fifty 183 On to the White House thousand grocery stores and meat mar- kets reaching out into every hamlet of the United States. As the corporate name indicates, cheese is their spe- cialty, particularly as bait to catch the 6 ' poor ' ' American consumer-suckers. Bar Flask Soaker, born in a Cincinnati bar, Cheapway Basements and National Pepper Company are smaller chains in the grocery and market field. Spikett Non-Drug Shops and Floor- black Drug Company dot the land with their chain drug stores. Divided Cigar- ettes Incorporated and Liverlady Fur- niture Nests Limited have a chain monopoly on tobacco and house furnish- ings, respectively. Serpent of The Nile Barber Shops encroach upon the proverbial local Bar- 184 On to the White House ber of Seville, with their venomous chain fangs. Prince of Wales Under- takers International convey the chain idea to the last resting place and trans- mit the chain message to heaven and its precincts. Friar Wesley Cottvalor, Spurius Suspicius Crassus, Spuma Honorius Crass, Jackson Georgia Magory, Wy- cliffe Tony Sherman, General McClel- lan, Jeriboah Credito Dollar, Profit Dear of New York, Ape Orphan of New Jersey, Colonel Newhaven, Lord Spikett of Massachusetts and Wheeler Rotan of New Jersey, president of Di- vided Cigarettes Incorporated, hold seats in the United States Senate from their respective states. These Wall Street chain store magnets directly 185 On to the White House represent their predatory interests in the Senate, with a powerful voice. The Sicilian gangsters have the larg- est bloc in the Senate and control the votes in the highest legislative body in the United States. 1940 is a presidential election year. Alberto Capra, king of the gangsters, a proselyte Protestant, is the Republi- can presidential nominee, and in the November election is swept into the White House. His mistress, Lesbia, is the new mistress of the White House, both literally and figuratively. President-Elect Capra 's personal bodyguard of forty Sicilian gangsters, the Forty Thieves of Ali Baba of old, is to supplant the United States Secret 186 On to the White House Service at the White House. The official language of the inner court at the White House is to be Sicilian. The new President has tentatively selected his cabinet. He proposes to create a new cabinet post, Secretary of Education. The first Secretary of Edu- cation will be John D. Rockefeller, Jr., an honorary member of Phi Beta Kappa, who was too busy and forgot to make the Phi Beta Kappa Key during his undergraduate days at Brown Uni- versity, in the "gay nineties.' ' Two thousand years ago, the great Marcus Tullius Cicero, standing before the mighty Roman Senate, exclaimed: — "O temporal O mores! Ubinam gentium sumus ? ' ' — ' ' Oh times ! Oh cus- toms! Where in the hell are wet" 187 On to the White House Ask any college student of history, when he is not busy loving a co-ed, or scrutinizing her legs on the front row, crossed to rate an A with the prof, where Rome is today. If Teddy Roosevelt, the foremost ex- ponent in America of American virility and one hundred per cent American- ism, were alive today, he would put a requiem on "America" and "The Star Spangled Banner," and exhort the can- tation of the national anthem of France, La Marsellaise : — "Aux Armes, Citoyens! Aux Armes, Citoyens!" — "To Arms, Citizens! To Arms, Citi- zens!" He would flame in the hearts of his countrymen another bloody French 188 On to the White House Revolution of 1789! He would urge down with the tyrants and the extor- tionists ! FINIS UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS-URBAN* Wth e white mm&~