Breaking a Colt

Different horse trainers have different methods of breaking a colt. A good way, if the animal seems tractable, is to gentle it with words, feed it sugar to gain its confidence, saddle it deftly before it grows excited, then mount and show it who is master. Last week Franklin Roosevelt, who is the U. S.'s most expert political horseman, set out to break a new Congress.

His first step was to gentle it with the moderate words of his Congressional message (see p. 12). He also let it have a little sugar when his Congressional leaders promised restive Representatives that they should have a chance to vote on prepayment of the Bonus. For three days he put off throwing his 1936 budget message over the Congressional back and cinching it up under the Congressional belly.

Those three days were spent in careful preparation. First the President had the dozen top men of House and Senate to the White House where supper was spread for them. Over the coffee cups Host Roosevelt broached the subject of new monies for relief when present funds are exhausted (about Feb. 10). He intimated that it ought to be quite simple to transfer, $880,000,000 of unexpended funds from the RFC and other departments, enough to tide the Relief Administration over until a $4,000,000,000 work relief program could be started. He also dropped a word or two about submission of a social security program, gradually accustoming the colt to handling without frightening it.

He appointed Donald Richberg chief horse wrangler. Except for direct requests for appropriations, which will clear as usual through the Bureau of the Budget,* all other Administration measures must hereafter clear through the Industrial Emergency Committee or the National Emergency Council. This meant that only Mr. Richberg, head of both bodies, could stamp a bill as an official Administration measure. The purpose of this new arrangement was to avoid such situations as occurred last year when different Cabinet members sent conflicting bills to Congress, all as Administration measures. Now when the Congressional colt begins to buck, there will be no chorus of contrary commands, only one voice speaking for the Administration: "Steady! Steady!"

To soften the inevitable shock of saddling his colt President Roosevelt called in the White House newshawks for an explanation of his budget. Each had to go to the Treasury, sign his name to an oath of absolute secrecy before he was handed a copy of the President's budget message, a copy of the 900-page budget. Then the correspondents hurried up the street to the White House Offices, were received by the President with Secretary Morgenthau and Budget Director Bell, one at each elbow. For an hour the newshawks were allowed to ask all the foolish questions they could think of, given official explanations. Thus, when the message was published 48 hours later, was the Press well primed by the White House to give just the interpretation the President desired. Then with everything ready President Roosevelt tossed his $8,500,000,000 budget on Congress' back (see p. 16).

P:As the President drove up to the Capitol to deliver his message on the State of the Union, the hearts of his Secret Service men missed a beat. A man in the crowd close to the car gave an ominous shout. Without waiting to hear what it was they seized and pinioned him, marched him away. All he had shouted was "We want the Bonus!" Police later established that his name was John Alferi, that he was a 47-year-old war veteran from Los Angeles, that he had a pass to the Senate gallery signed by Huey Long. Released, he returned to the Capitol to tell reporters: "I think Roosevelt is a good guy. I didn't mean to start anything. When I get my bonus I'm going to buy myself three suits of underwear, three suits of clothes and a ticket back to Los Angeles."

P: The President gave his second State function of the season, a reception for the 550 members of the diplomatic corps and their ladies. Sensation of the evening was not Mrs. Roosevelt's gown of lipstick-red velvet with gold collar and sash, not Mme Sze's blue brocaded kimono and diamond tiara, not Danish Minister Otto Wadsted's scarlet coat with its front completely covered by gold braid, but William Edgar Borah in ordinary full dress. Although he has for years been a member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee, the oldest socialites in Washington could not remember when the Senator from Idaho had previously attended such a White House function. "I came." said Senator Borah nobly, "out of respect for the President."

*Banking bills, in a special category, will be submitted to the special loan committee headed by Secretary of the Treasury Morgenthau.

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