Mrs. Henry Peabody, whose gesture a few years ago in moving to Florida by way of protest when Massachusetts repealed its dry law was a charming contribution to local tabuloalty, has aesped into the headlines again. In a speech defending Prohibition (O quam to memorem virgo) she urged that every woman in the United States should go into morning when the eighteenth amendment is repealed. In no other way can the nation's relapse into the arms of the Harlot of Rum be fittingly symbolized.
At a time when the day's news is freighted with thunders and portents it is soothing to know that the spirit of Carrie Nation still moves among us, the little hatchet up her sleeve. When the steins are sliding again over the shining counter, and the White Horse chorus rises once more from Jake's on 43rd St., the old defenders can leap into action with a new war-cry: "We have Scotched the rake, not killed him." But if America's women hood perversely refuse to take the legalized cocktail with a dash of bitters, what remains for Mrs. Peabody? She can hardly be expected to find Florida still safe for the hundred percenter and the chocolate parfait, since Mr. Capone and his boys have a long established branch of their enterprise there. And India, where the cause has found its latest converts, is a long way. Besides, the ocean is wet.
In this dilemma the CRIMSON, with becoming modesty, wishes to offer a brief proposal, which will solve two problems at a blow. Let Great Britain, in return for a reduction in her debt to this country, cede one of those barren islands in the North Atlantic, which it has been asserted, have no value except in the unlikely event of war. Let the government turn the island over to Mrs. Peabody, and guarantee to keep it barren. There Mrs. Peabody, and for good measure the lame duck dries in Congress, can maintain unhampered their ideal regime, the Sahara of the Boozart.
At the time of Mrs. Peabody's last voluntary exodus, she went South in the fall, following the birds. If the proposal outlined above is followed by the next Congress, the lady is free to go North in the spring. The birds will go with her.