THE CAMPAIGN: Falling Leaves

Examining the tree leaves last week, nature lovers read the autumnal message written in color in the falling foliage: "Jack Frost was here." There was a comparable message to be read by the leaf rakers in the candidates' camps, but the delight was hardly as universal. It read: "Jack Kennedy Was Here."

Inhaling the crisp autumnal political air, Democrats around the country sensed victory. Kennedy was more exhilarated and confident than ever. His sweep into New York City last week was a Niagara of ticker tape and enthusiasm. By contrast, the Republican mood was splotched with dark worries. Dick Nixon's entrance into New York hardly got any notice. He spent the few days before Debate No. 4 holed up in his Waldorf suite, chairing strategy sessions. and making no effort to match crowds in Democratic Manhattan. Evidence of the Kennedy surge was growing: the polls and the reporters showed that New York State (45 electoral votes) has moved into the Kennedy column (see box). For Nixon and Lodge the word from California (32 votes) and Texas (24 votes) was more heartening. But the total picture was more uncertain for them than at any time in the campaign.

Tired Rerun. The cumulative effect of the TV debates only served to underline the Nixon lag. Last week's go-round gave the Democratic candidate yet another chance to exhibit the Kennedy charisma—the smile, the cataract of words, the repeated promise to move forward—that has put Nixon at a disadvantage before the Big Eye. Debate No. 4 in itself gave little new substance to their views, though, as before, the tension of the confrontation made the occasion dramatic. The inflexible format and generally inept questioning by TV newscasters produced a disappointing, almost high schoolish, rerun of oft-stated positions and oft-used phrases on both sides.

On the Cuba question, Nixon called Kennedy's assertion that the U.S. ought to encourage an anti-Castro revolt "probably the most dangerously irresponsible [statement] that he's made in the course of this campaign," and one that might lose the U.S. its friends in the U.N. and Latin America, perhaps lead to civil war and an "open invitation to Mr. Khrushchev." Kennedy countered that the U.S. economic embargo of Castro was too little and too late. And even though both Kennedy and Nixon now agree substantially on the Quemoy-Matsu policy, Nixon still wanted to hear Kennedy say, "I now will depart, or retract my previous views. I think I was wrong in 1955, I think I was wrong in 1959"—and as Nixon spoke, the TV cameras switched to a grinning Kennedy, a grin which better than words indicated how little he felt inclined to oblige.

On the everlasting question of whether U.S. prestige is at an alltime high or all-time low, Nixon accused Kennedy of weakening the U.S. image by harping on its failures. On "every one" of Kennedy's criticisms, declared Nixon, the Democrat has been "wrong—dead wrong. And for that reason, he has contributed to any lack of prestige."