Loitering along the Nova Scotia coast, lying fog-bound in isolated harbors, seagoing Franklin Roosevelt last week provided the seven correspondents expensively trailing him in a chartered schooner with no more newsworthy facts than that he had clicked on a radio for Alf Landon's acceptance speech (see below), trolled seven hours for tuna without getting a single strike. This week, bronzed and fit after a fortnight of his favorite sport, wearing new-grown mutton-chop whiskers like his late father's, the President ended his 417-mile cruise at Campobello Island, seeing his summer home for the...
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