For a time last week, Richard Nixon could have been taken for legendary Joe Btfsplk, the creature out of L'il Abner who always walks under a cloud. There was his trouble on the TV debate with Kennedy. Rain dogged him from Illinois to New York to Massachusetts. Chowder fog slowed his chartered Convair while crowds waited restlessly on the ground below. Gremlins bugged up his public-address system in Long Island City and Schenectady, N.Y., and unfortunate twists crept into his off-the-cuff sallies ("It's our responsibility that we . . . get rid...
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