MAMMY

Heart-appeal is a moving force in politics as well as in press and theatre. The Senate, as a parting gesture, has done an act that will touch the heart of every constituent. It has provided for the construction, in Washington, of a suitable monument in honor of "the faithful colored mammies of the South."

Honor where honor is due--and no one will deny it to these loyal nurses. The literature of the South, from "Uncle Tom's Cabin" down, is full of reverence for their services. Famous nurses are plentiful in literary annals: Stevenson's "Cummic" has been immortalized; Lytton Strachey credits an odd individual, Mrs. Salome Leaker, with a vigorous part in his up-bringing; Barrle was intimately aware of the merits of nurse-maids--but even his affectionate "Nana" could hardly find place beside the loyal Southern mammies. Their bed-time stories compare as literature to the legendary fantasy of Ireland, and their lullabies are America's only folk music.

Yet there is irony in this magnanimity of the Senate. The Dyer Bill, for the punishment of lynching, has been defeated; other legislation to improve the conditions of the Negro is not much in evidence. While their own children are being neglected, one may wonder if the spirits of the mammies will fully appreciate the Senate's generosity.