My Choice of Presidential Candidates

The Personal Predilections of Me, Myself, for This Exalted Office

GEORGE S. CHAPPELL

NOW is the time for all Rood men and true to come to the aid of their country, and offer any suggestions they may have as to who should be the next President of these United States. Step up, ladies and gentlemen, and make your choice or choices. My readers will note that I speak of my "choices for candidates", in the plural. I have not been able to narrow my selections to less than ten, and the list of desirables keeps increasing in spite of me.

It is every one's duty to get this thing out of his system right away. Do we not often hear people say after an election, " Who selected this person anyway? I was not consulted." That is because they have failed to speak up when they have had the opportunity. Don't take any stock in the professional wire-pullers, who say, "Why worry about it now? It is too early to say anything definite. Lots can happen between now and election. " These are the men who are quietly fixing up the slate and oiling the steam-roller; and the first thing the mute and modest citizen knows, he is framed and hung, with his face toward the wall.

The Professional Candidates

WITH me, I must admit the choice of a candidate depends largely on how I feel. It is unfortunate that we can have but one President at a time, and that the Vice President is such an ignoble figure in the political picture. I always think of him as the silent half of a vaudeville sketch, who is only allowed to say enough to feed the real comedian. He is the man behind the barrel in an old Dutch painting. You know he is there, because the top of his hat and the toe of his boot stick out. Now, if we had two Presidents, or if the Vice President were given a speaking part, we could elect varying temperaments, and thus satisfy the varying moods of the public and of individuals.

It may be well at the outset to dispose of the so-called official or professional possibilities, such as Hiram Johnson, Ford, Underwood, Wadsworth, McAdoo, et al. Some of these gentlemen are estimable men, but as a group they leave me cold. Johnson is invigorating; but like all breezes, he gets on one's nerves. His idea is that Europe is drifting into chaos, and that we should keep out until we are dragged in. Somehow, I always see us going into some new trouble wrong-end-first, just as we did into the Great War, with Hiram on the end of the line, back-peddling and yelling. After hearing him rave for an hour, it is restful to creep into the shade of Charles Evans Hughes.

Underwood and McAdoo are the two favorite hopes of the Democratic party. The latter, probably, has a little something on the genial Oscar W., because of his great popularity with the feminine electorate. In Washington, Mr. McAdoo is a social lion; and it is reported that the ladies of the Capital City always refer to the Democratic party as "He".

Wadsworth suffers from the handicap of always having had a cultural background. Knowing him as 1 did at New Haven, where he sang and played first base, I can vouch for the fact that he was collcgiatelv acclaimed as "Gentleman Jim". This was also true of James J. Corbett. If Wadsworth had been born a poor boy on a farm in a middle-western state; if he had split rails and hoed corn; had he been able to say, " My trousers are worn and ragged, but they cover an honest heart", he would have a better chance. But a consistently clean collar is an awful handicap. Anyway, he is the best of the Washington lot; and, if nominated, I promise to vote at least twice for him. And if twice isn't enough, 1 'll vote as many times more as my unfortunately familiar face will let me.

There remains to be considered Mr. Henry Ford, the motor engineer. Don Marquis has said that Mr. Ford, if elected, will hold the American people in the hollow of his head. But I cannot become honestly afflicted with Ford-fear. It is possible that there is more in Mr. Ford's head than meets the eye. There are times when I actually favor his election. I feel that if we are to have him, it would be well to do it and have it over with. Dr. Harvey Wiley, the pure food expert, is opposed to Ford because he manufactures automobiles. "The automobile", says Dr. Wiley, "has contributed more to the encouragement of crime than any other factor in modern life. It has created a race of pot-bellied bankers, bootleggers and burglars, and has provided an easy means of escape for law breakers all over the country." Looked at in this light, we see Mr. Ford as an arch criminal; but we must not forget that Dr. Wiley is, after all, a pure food expert.

To reiterate, the professional candidates do not particularly interest me. The first choice, to whom my mind and heart constantly return, is Ethel Barrymore.

Place aux Dames

WOMEN have been gaining steadily in political influence, and Miss Barrymore would surely sweep the country. The thought of her smile and her rich, warm voice dominating a Cabinet meeting sets me all a-twitter. It would be wise if she would retain Calvin Coolidge as her Vice President, for which submerged office he is ideal. It is said in parts of Massachusetts that he narrowly escaped being a mute, and he has always had a habit of bursting into silence at inopportune moments. He would be an admirable guide for Miss Barrymore through the mazes of politics, though probably her own charm would smooth out most of the possible difficulties. When President Barrymore did not feel up to attending this or that gathering, she could send Elsie Janis to imitate her.

It is well, I think, to consider our candidates in connection with their running mates. There should be a contrast in the ticket. Thus, for instance, a strong combination would be Pola Negri and Henry Cabot Lodge. "Pola for President! The Platform of Passion." Think of the campaign slogans we could write. And all the time, Mr. Lodge would be standing coolly by, like the pitcher of ice water on the lecturer's table. Indeed, the feminine ticket for Presidentsuggestssomeinteresting possibilities. Consider the southern gentlemen in Congress!

Edna St. Vincent Millay is another wonderful young woman, who is worthy of serious consideration. She represents the younger generation. She is full of young ideas, and a poetess in the White House would be a novelty. Also, she has that rare gift, a name to conjure with, a magical combination of scanning syllables which F. P. A. has fittingly enshrined in the hearts of insomniacs the world over. For those who prefer a more rollicking interpretation for use at supper parties, it is suggested that Miss Millay's name goes beautifully to the tune of our old favorite, "Ivan Petrosky Skovar".

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Rumor has it that Miss Millay's appointee for the post of Secretary of the Treasury would be Mr. Robert Benchley, the financial expert, public accountant, auditor, and editor of the Benchley Market Charts.

I have always fancied the idea of Tallulah Bankhead in the Presidential chair. As her Vice President I see Hr. Frank Crane, though he probably could not keep still enough for a Vice President. However, so much of what he says amounts practically to silence that perhaps he would be all right. Houdini would be a good man in any cabinet; he could always get out. of it so easily.

Mere Men

WITHOUT question, the one man who could unite all parties and go into office on a wave of popular enthusiasm, is Joe Cook. "Joe Cook for President" would stampede any convention. I should feel perfectly safe if the country were in his hands. And with what confidence could we not regard our foreign policy and tiie treatment of our island possessions, knowing as we do Mr. Cook's affection for the Hi-wayans. He has definitely offered to send Dr. Walter Traprock to the Court of St. James, on condition that he stay there.

A very strong candidate would be that outstanding American, Ring Lardner. His messages to Congress would liven up that body, and when published would make a pleasant volume to add to the set of Messages of the Presidents, which everyone buys in a moment of weakness.

If the American people want a man who will do things in a big, spectacular way, they will elect Morris Gest. Imagine what he could do in Washington! The papers would carry announcements that President Gest's forthcoming production

of the Seventy Ninth Congress would excel in splendor all previous efforts. Ballet russc, Balieff and Bally-hoo would be the order of the day. Our international difficulties would be instantly straightened out by this great cosmopolitan, whose heart beats for all the world, as Mr. Gest is the first to admit. Whenever friction developed with any people, the President would import a dramatic novelty from their country, a tremendous group of Siamese dancers, or something of that sort. Paris went wild over eight Siamese maidens. Mr. Gest would have eight thousand. We would not have to worry about foreign alliances. All the foreigners would be over here. Celebrities would flit in and out of our lives, like cooks in the country. As Coleridge says so beautifully,

"The Morris Gest here beat his breast For he heard Siegfried Sassoon."

This would be an extremely popular candidacy, and at the end of a strenuous

campaign alive with incident and gorgeousness, I can see the great man sitting in the Presidential chair—a morris chair, in the gest room, obviously—while outside, thousands of Czechs, Russians, Swedes and Rumanians sing that lovely song, Gest a Song at Twilight.

Study of the poets reveals another name of interest. In my Golden Casket of Popular Lyrics I came across the following:

"In Xanidu did Otto Khan A stately pleasure dome dercree,

Where Liz, the sacred flivver ran In circles, to the sea."

This is almost a portent, a prophecy! Otto Khan! There is another great name. The individuals I have selected give some idea of the tremendous range of candidates. I trust that readers of this magazine will follow my suggestion and bring forward their choices before it is too late. Anyone can be nominated. All that is necessary is a proposer and seconder's letter, and a card of recommendation from any licensed druggist. The registration fee ($1.00, cash or money order), should be mailed to me, care of the Bureau of Weights and Measures, Washington, D. C. Make your bets, ladies and gentlemen, while the wheel spins. Twenty can win, as well as one!