Heflin's Bile

"Poor little purse-proud puppets . . . these little pen-pushers."

Six correspondents assigned to the Senate gazed down from the gallery back of the Vice President into the face and figure of Senator Heflin. The Senator was talking of them. Stung to his feet by the bantering of Senator Copeland of New York, he had risen to renew his attack upon the Catholic influence (TIME, Jan. 31). He had predicted that Dr. Copeland (red carnation) would lose his seat "unless he did some toe-kissing before the next election."

He proceeded for an hour and a quarter, but his system was still not fully relieved of bile. In a final orgasm of accusation he gave utterance to his long-festering abomination of the press gallery, which has repeatedly declared itself bored by his bombast. "Poor little purse-proud puppets," he sneered, "holding out their hands to get something scurrilous to write about a man who is trying to serve his country." The six gazers quickly reported the matter to their fellows, who, by tradition, leave the gallery when the Senator from Alabama rises.