Merry McAndrew

Most potent of the puffs that blew corpulent William Hale Thompson into the mayoralty of Chicago last April was his loud cry: "Americanism!" Once in office, the Mayor announced a crusade against School Superintendent William McAndrew, imported three years before from New York City because his recognized ability was needed to improve Chicago's educational system. Mr. McAndrew had vexed the Mayor. He had interfered with the easy-going manner of awarding contracts for school buildings. He had taught that the U. S. Army retreated before the advance of the British on Washington, D. C., in the War of 1812. Roared Mayor Thompson: "I will run that whiskered pro-British stool pigeon of King George out of town!" To do that His Honor replaced the members of the Board of Education with citizens upon whom he could rely. Soon the Board suspended Mr. McAndrew.

Eleven members constitute the Board. Six of them, a majority, could vote the superintendent out of office. Last week it appeared as though six of them, hearty henchmen of William Hale Thompson, would vote Mr. McAndrew out. The trial seemed but a protracted formality. But it was of interest, outside the courtroom because this was the first time a superintendent of schools had ever been tried in Chicago. The charges were insubordination (refusing to replace teachers who worked in the executive offices and sometimes substituted in the classroom, with civil service clerks) and unpatriotism. Evidence adduced to prove the latter charge: "He refused to recommend to the School Board that the school children be permitted to donate small amounts of money for the purpose of reconditioning-the famous American battleship Old Ironsides. . . . He recommended history text books which contained pro-British propaganda and which omitted the name and exploits of many foreign and native-born heroes of the American Revolutionary War." There were other charges--insolence, poisoning the minds of U. S. children against the government, etc.

Through a long afternoon filled with soporific technicalities that occasionally snorted into colorful blasphemy, the whiskered "stool pigeon of King George" tilted far back in his swivel chair, read the Chicago Tribune comic strip about Andrew Gump, Minerva Gump, etc., etc. Above the edge of the newspaper, courtroom idlers could see Mr. McAndrew's iron grey hair. Occasionally he put the newspaper down and chuckled. Then the idlers noted his white whiskers well tinged with red, his high color, his eyebrows that laid a direct black line across his forehead.

Superintendent McAndrew might avoid dull afternoons in court by simply resigning. This he refused to do. Said he: "They'll fire me all right. But they'll have to stage a burlesque show to do it!"