Profitable Journey

Rested and refreshed, Prime Minister William Lyon Mackenzie King returned to Ottawa. His journey into the U.S. had been no gadabout vacation. In 1,770 miles and seven days, the Prime Minister had done a lot.

When his private car reached Washington, just after noon on Friday, Mr. King went straight to the White House. He stayed up late that night, talking with Franklin Roosevelt in a top-floor sunroom. Next morning he had the run of the White House. He said later that he was treated just like a member of the family. He dined again Saturday night with the President. They sat up late again, talking. Finally, Mr. King climbed into a limousine, was driven to his train.

At historic Williamsburg, capital of colonial Virginia, he skipped his usual Sunday church service, strolled in the warm sun, poked around the old town. He did some work in his room in the Williamsburg Inn, left Monday afternoon.

Back in Washington, at Franklin Roosevelt's regular press conference (see U.S. AT WAR), the Prime Minister sat just behind and to the right of the President. As always, he was impeccably and stiffly dressed--dark blue suit, Hooverish collar, black-ribboned pince-nez, dark tie--in contrast with the President's light green tweed coat, polka-dot tie.

When reporters asked about Prime Minister King's visit, the President answered offhandedly: "Oh, he comes down here all the time." Specifically, he said they had thoroughly discussed the coming San Francisco Conference. He read a short statement revealing that the two leaders agreed on the need for reducing international trade barriers.

Hands across the Border. He and Mr. King were old friends, the President said, and since Mr. King had become Prime Minister, their friendship had made it very easy to solve U.S.-Canadian problems. He spoke of the benefits of close, friendly consultation. The implication of all this was plain: Franklin Roosevelt could get along with Mackenzie King, and did not relish the idea of getting along without him. Since Mr. King must soon fight an election, this sort of talk set tongues a-clacking. Said one U.S. newsman to a Canadian colleague: "How do you like this interference in Canadian politics?"

The Prime Minister spent one day in New York's Harvard Club, working. Then he left for home. More journeying was ahead for him. In April he would go to San Francisco. After that, there would be cross-country electioneering. But for awhile he would have to stay home.

The session of Parliament which opened this week would, Mr. King hoped, be short. But with San Francisco in the offing, a parliamentary discussion of Canadian foreign policy seemed inevitable. As a starter, Mr. King was ready with the names of Canadian delegates. Some would be representatives of the people: CCF Leader Major James Coldwell; Gordon Graydon, Tory leader in Parliament; Justice Minister (and Quebecker) Louis Stephen St. Laurent; Senator James H. King. A woman would be chosen, too. Some of the delegates would be experts--men like Hume Wrong and Norman Robertson, suave and able top-rankers in the External Affairs Department; men like Lester Bowles ("Mike") Pearson, diplomatically adroit Canadian Ambassador to the U.S.

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