National Affairs: B for Bishop, F for Fess

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The St. Louis Post-Dispatch carried a memorable poem titled "A Political Primer" by "Satyricus." Investigation revealed that "Satyricus" is one William R. Reich, who describes himself as "unemployed." Excerpts:

B for the Bishop of bucketshop fame,
Virginia's his State, Cannon's his name.
He lobbies to keep us from bourbon & rye;
Why doesn't he pick out the mote from his eye?
D is for Dougherty, who comes to defend
The illustrious Harding, his once noble friend,
Whose body now rests in a white marble tomb
Which awaits dedication; but when and by whom?
E is for Elephant, Republican symbol,
Great mountains of flesh, whose brains fill a thimble.
He sometimes gives way to the Democrat donkey,
Small difference it makes, each acts like a flunkey.
F is for Fess, the Simon-pure dry,
The recent election, he explains with a sigh,
Was a victory jor Hoover, the Volstead law, too,
Figure it out; you're bright if you do.
H is for Hoover, the wise engineer,
From the rocks of depression he would keep us clear,
And noble experiments bring to perfection
By expert commissioners of his selection.
J. Hamilton Lewis, spats and pink whiskers,
Defeated the candidate of our dear sisters.
Did Mrs. McCormick vile politics purify
By spending a fortune and snooping on Nye?
K is for Kellogg, dubbed "Nervous Nellie,"
At the hint of a red he trembles like jelly.
Young Hamilton Fish now does the same.
Hamilton Fish—an appropriate name.
M is for Morrow, he has no peer
As the valiant champion of light wines and beer.
He now appears liberal but once was the organ
Of that gigantic octopus, great house of Morgan.
N is for Norris, conserver of power.
At the sound of his name the utilities glower;
They chose to defeat him his namesake, a grocer;
But did they succeed? Well I should say no sir!
Q is for Quack and also for Quibble,
The first is a statesman, the second his dribble.
Quacks prescribe nostrums for each little pain
And Congress makes laws, though most are in vain.
R stands for Roosevelt, Ritchie and Reed,
Robinson, too. I'm sure we must heed,
Which will we find when the time comes to pass
Astride the fatuous Democrat ass?
S is for Stimson, Department of State,
He backs the wrong horse or maybe its mate;
Will somebody warn him the next revolution
To wait till it's over to give his solution?
W for Wilbur, Stanford's head man,
Who feathers his nest wherever he can.
A cabinet income and one from his college
Do not pay for his actions, but just for his knowledge.