knew that the moistness of his past was causing dele-
gates in the land of corn whiskey and mint julep to
favor the arid McAdoo. But there was, unhappily,
no alternative; so, after protesting for almost a
month that he had an open mind, he signed the bill.
In a lengthy and carefully worded memorandum
issued simultaneously, he genuflected toward the
drys and said that "there will still rest upon the
peace officers of this State the sacred responsibility of
sustaining the Volstead Act with as much force and
as much vigor" as "any State law or local ordi-
nance".

"--warning to that effect," he added solemnly,
"is herein contained as coming from the Chief Ex-
ecutive of the State of New York."

This, of course, was what Al himself, in the by-
gone days when he was more careless in his public
utterances, would have branded "boloney and apple-
sauce". It was exactly the sort of perfectly futile
gesture less able politicians are always making.
Certainly it did not fool the militant and well-paid
leaders of the Methodist-Prohibition army. Nor
did a single police chief, sheriff or other peace offi-
cer anywhere in the State have apprehension of a
rebuke from Albany for failing to be diligent in
"the sacred responsibility of sustaining the Volstead
Act". And down in lower Manhattan the speak-
easy owner rejoiced that no longer would the pre-
cinct police captain or special patrolmen from head-

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