PROHIBITION: What Am I?

I am a little petition only a few months old. But I grew fast—now I am 5 ft. tall and have to be tied up in a bag. I am a very important petition—17,226 pages constitute my physique; within me are the signatures of 437,163 Illinois voters and all kinds of notary public seals.

Last week I had a big field day. In Chicago they had a wonderful parade, just on account of me. I left the Hotel Bismarck, climbed in a truck. In front of me was at boisterous brass band which kept playing "How Dry I Am." Beside me rode my daddy, like Pompey returning to Rome in triumph. In case you do not know him, my daddy is a nice old man—rather chubby and rather bald—has name is George E. Brennan [Democratic nominee for Senator from Illinois (TIME, Aug. 9)].

Behind us people were cheering, shouting for beer, waving banners. They all wore my daddy's bright blue badges. They honked horns, squawked squawkers, shot off torpedoes, threw confetti at us. When we reached the Union station, they put me on a train. In Springfield, Ill., I had another parade up to the state capitol. Then a man, who said he was chief clerk of the elections department, told me that I would probably be put on the ballot in November. Then I will be able to ask all the Illinois voters this question: "Should the Congress of the United States modify the federal act to enforce the 18th amendment to the constitution of the United States so that the same shall not prohibit the manufacture, sale, transportation, importation, or exportation of beverages which are not in fact intoxicating, as determined in accordance with the laws of the respective states?"