The Democracy

It was a hot, humid, but happy Houston. Discord waned. Celebrities furnished the atmosphere of a glorified picnic instead of a political dogfight.

Mrs. Woodrow Wilson arrived regally and went to stay with the Jesse Holman Joneses in their bungalow atop Mr. Jones's new Lamar Hotel. So far as the convention was concerned, Mr. Jones, who arranged it all, was the most important man in town. A Mr. Smith, of course, was the most important man, not in town. William C. Hogg, whom oldtime Houstonians might call their first citizen and whose father was governor of Texas (1891-95), published a letter upbraiding Mr. Jones for "a consistent and calculating career of mendacity which would belittle even Jesse James, who was romantic enough to ride a horse." Mr. Hogg also imputed "stalwart avarice" and "piratical trading" to Mr. Jones, but few took note. They just admired Mr. Jones and decided he was a real Democrat when, to explain Mrs. Jones's not being at the station to meet Mrs. Wilson he said: "She's home, frying the chicken."

Mrs. Wilson was for Mr. Smith and so really was Mr. Jones. Governors, Senators and Bosses steamed into town and, following the withdrawal of Maryland's Ritchie, the opposition to Smith ebbed steadily. Georgia's George, Tennessee's Hull, and Mississippi's Harrison declined to be sheer "anti's." Arkansas' Robinson said his delegates were free. So did Ayres of Kansas. Young Governor Moody of Texas refused to lead the dry bloc. Indiana offered to shift to Smith after one ballot for Banker Evans Woollen. Ohio's Newton Diehl Baker, long a Smith endorser, sent word from Cleveland that a united party was the essential thing. Before the first gavel fell, the Smith managers were concerned lest their progress look like "steam-rollering." They confined themselves to distributing 50 cases of Smith literature and discussed the platform more than their man. Odds rose to 9 to i on the Smith nomination. Thomas ("Silver Tongue") Hickey onetime newsboy "from the sidewalks of San Francisco" prepared his speech to second the Smith nomination. "There are two kinds of big men," said Mr. Hickey. "Those who grow and those who just swell. Well, Al's growing all the time."

North Carolina's Simmons remained hostile. Virginia's peppery little Glass arrived, was given a hotel room without a bath, lost his famed temper (TIME, May 28), vowed he never would vote for Smith. Missouri's Reed, after seeming to have quieted down, snapped "I am tired of this rot," and issued a statement which was a transparent attempt to rally the dwindling dry bloc. But it seemed that nothing upsetting would really happen—unless there came a fight over the party's platform.

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