Not Mawkish

Three hundred years ago in crowded London slums, hungry bellies ached, loaves of black bread were stolen. Next morning the gallows tree bore fresh fruit of petty thieves; punishment was quick, certain, cruel. Crime did not abate.

Now in legislatures throughout the U. S. in prosperous states of a prosperous nation, men have sought for months new ways to defeat crime, have argued the old question: Will crime decrease as punishment becomes more sure, more certain?

Last fortnight in the New York State Legislature, the Baumes Crime Commission sought to sharpen the teeth of existing Baumes laws with 84 new recommendations, to make parole and bail harder, conviction easier, take deadly weapons from the hands of criminals. At the same time 38 bills to make the recommendations effective were introduced in the legislature.

In the legislatures of Massachusetts, Utah, Connecticut and the District of Columbia bills based on the Baumes laws were under consideration; in Kentucky, Louisiana and Minnesota such bills were being prepared; in New Jersey the Biro act (a similar bill) was passed by the Assembly. The Indiana Senate passed a law banning machine guns; Kansas Senators passed a bill reviving capital punishment.

In New York, jewelers indorsed last year's Baumes laws providing life imprisonment for criminals four times convicted of a felony, said the laws have reduced their losses from theft 50%.

In newspaper headlines throughout the country, the name Baumes had been rising to new prominence. Who, what it is--trade mark, symbol, place--many people can only guess. But in the New York Senate they know what lies behind the name: it is a man. State Senator Caleb H. Baumes, short, sparse, with drooped moustache and thin white hair, sponsored the Baumes laws, sputtered and spumed "mawkish sentiment" at critics who called them cruel, lived to see his name rise to a disembodied symbol of "punishment to fit the crime."