McAdoodle

The Who, pre-eminently Who Is William Gibbs, the McAdoo . . . He's always up and McAdooing From Sun to Star and Star to Sun His work is never McAdone.

Early this month, the McAdoo got himself up in the red and black velvet of a caballero and up onto a prancing mare. Mare and McAdoo were chief prancers at an oldtime Santa Barbara fiesta. No man had better right to be. Ever since the earthquake (TIME, July 6, 1925) he, lawyer-engineer with many a mighty deed to his credit as such, has been in the front of reconstruction of that lovely town. He and his wife (daughter of the late Woodrow Wilson) are prominent & popular in Santa Barbara's so-called millionaire colony. But their home, of course, is in Los Angeles where the "heir" who failed to inherit from Wilson, makes legal fees and not a little political whoopee. The latter has attracted almost no attention since last September (TiME, Sept. 26), when the heir publicly reconciled himself to political penury. But he has never endorsed the Brown Derby. So tense now is political battle that ears were strained last week to catch a McAdoodle. There was, for Brown Derbyism, a stillness ominous, yet not hopeless. Hoover had made his speech, in no sense a McAdoo progressive speech. Surely Smith could more nearly approach the progressive note. And if he did, might not McAdoo win the everlasting gratitude of an eager-to-win Democracy by saluting it. If he did, the effect upon the Dry South, upon the anti-Tammany West might be worth 1,000,000 votes. California is, by almost common consent, Republican, although not enthusiastically so.