Last week the final counts were coming in from each of the 3,072 counties of the U.S. In a few States--Washington, Massachusetts, Missouri, Kansas, New Hampshire--the fate of Governors depended on the final count, a recount, or perhaps on the tally of absentee ballots. Election oddities bubbled out of the county tallies, in Lincoln County, N. Mex., old stamping-and- shooting ground of Billy the Kid, Willkie and Roosevelt were tied. So were they in Gilpin County, Colo., in Marinette County, Wis. In almost uninhabited Armstrong County. S. Dak., nobody voted.

The vote by counties illustrated the great main trend of the 1940 election: industrial centres had voted for President Roosevelt, rural counties for Wendell Willkie. Every city of more than 400,000, with the exception of Cincinnati, went for President Roosevelt. The President won Illinois by only 94,00 votes. But Chicago gave him a plurality of 295,206, and the same city-county discrepancy appeared in New York, Missouri, Wisconsin. He carried approximately 54.6% of the popular vote of the nation. He carried approximately 52.5% of the popular vote outside the Solid South (where, nevertheless, the Democratic majority dropped from 4-4-to-1 in 1936 to 3-5-to-1).

Here & there candidates had spent an uncomfortable week on the anxious seat:

In New Hampshire Republican Robert Blood was still considered Governor-elect one week after the balloting, by 2,814 votes, with Democrat Clyde Keefe still talking of a recount.

In Massachusetts there was still recount talk, although last figures gave Governor Saltonstall 9,000 votes over Democrat Paul A. Dever.

In Missouri there was one of the biggest upsets in the State's political history. For years Lawrence McDaniel, a roly- poly, wisecracking, dependable Democratic wheelhorse, has missed big victories by a hair. Once he was almost mayor of St. Louis. This year he resigned as City Excise Commissioner to run for Governor. Opposing him was Forrest Donnell, an unassuming Republican attorney who had never held public office before. Confident Candidate McDaniel tasted victory prematurely. As Missouri's Democratic victory came through on schedule, jubilant Candidate McDaniel had a lead of 50,000 on Tuesday night, with 75% of the vote reported. Down it went by morning to 17,000. By week's end, Donnell was ahead by 3,698 votes. With 8,000 still to be counted, newspapers hailed Forrest Donnell as Governor-elect. But disappointed Candidate McDaniel said he still had hope.

In Kansas, Republican Governor Payne Ratner appeared to be defeated in a State that went Republican, with absentee ballots officially deciding Kansas' new Governor. Residential voters gave Governor Ratner 416,480; Democratic Candidate William H. Burke, 418,359. But before that 1,879-vote margin made Mr. Burke Governor-elect, some 16,000 absentee ballots remained to be counted. Kansas politicos guessed they would not change the result.

In Washington, pre-election odds that Democrat Clarence Dill would win the Governorship over Seattle's Arthur Langlie were as big as odds that Roosevelt would carry the State. By Election Eve they were better than 2-to-1. Unprofessional, unexciting Arthur Langlie was accounted no match for politically experienced ex- Senator Dill, reportedly had agreed to run only to strengthen the Republican State ticket; Steve Chadwick as candidate for Senator was considered the only Washington Republican with a chance.

Candidate Langlie, businessman and political amateur, was drafted by Seattle's for mayor (after the city had had a parade of clowning candidates), in the days when Harry Bridges and Dave Beck were slugging it out on the Seattle waterfront. He lost, but by 1938 voters were sorry, put him in by a big majority. So successful was Mayor Langlie that when he came up for re-election there was virtually no contest. Campaigning for Governor, Candidate Langlie talked of the spiritual side of things, was steered by amateur advisers--including a dry-goods salesman, a young reporter, a former department-store manager--who had never dabbled in politics before. Candidate Chadwick had lost to his Democratic opponent by 50,00 votes at week's end. Wendell Willkie lost the State by 112,000. But at last week's end Arthur Langlie had a lead of 2,129 (out of 751,895). Still to be counted were 25,000 absentee ballots.

Unity

Under the impression that the election was over, citizens of the U.S. last week prepared to give their ears a rest, prop up their feet, pay overdue attention to comic strips, football scores, fashion advertisements. But another campaign was on. A great shout was heard from leaders in both parties: "Unity!" Blared on the radio, blazoned in headlines were appeals, some frantic, some cool--praying that the U.S. should unite behind the President in order that the perils of the future be met in strength. "Good losers" clubs were formed, meetings were held, petitions urging this-&-that were sent here-&-there.

Franklin D. Roosevelt had made no post-election appeal for unity in his support, perhaps reserving his views for a major occasion. In a telegram to Also-Ran Roger W. Babson, he had welcomed "cooperation" of all citizens. Also-Ran Wendell Willkie now urged unity, but also alert and vigilant opposition.

Democrats feared a sit-down strike by political-minded industrialists; Republican feared edicts from a political-minded President. Upshot of concern over the spread and depth of these fears was a public meeting at New York's Carnegie Hall, staged by the non-partisan Council for Democracy. In stage-Lincoln voice, Actor Raymond Massey read a unity plea by Poet Stephen Vincent Benet. Unity speeches were made by Attorney General Robert H. Jackson, Selective Service Director Clarence A. Dykstra. Columnist Dorothy Thompson, Labor Leader George M. Harrison, Industrialist Howard Coonley, Newscaster Raymond Gram Swing, Citizen Alfred Mossman Landon.

("Only non-unity note of the evening," said the New York Times, "was struck by the audience, a section of which booed when a telegram was read...signed by General Hugh S. Johnson.")

To one great segment of the U.S., all this to-do undoubtedly seemed as unnecessary and embarrassing as French generals kissing. Many U.S. citizens, perhaps more than belong to any other group, are of a kind whom everyone has encountered: they do not protest their faith in democracy; they take it for granted. They vote, pay taxes and, if need be, march. For a week or two before elections they may get politically het up. But after an election is past, they quickly return to their normal attitude, which is both affectionate and aloof. Sure, they are for the President--he is their President, isn't he?--and of course they will still make up their own minds whether they like him and what he does.

Doubtless with these citizens in mind, General John J. Pershing last week said clearly and simply: "That the people will now unite behind the new President does not admit of doubt. It is the American way."

But people who had fears for national unity were obviously not talking sheer fantasy. The citizens whose undemonstrative loyalty to the President can be taken for granted are those who do not take their politics hard. Franklin Roosevelt is among those who in recent years have inspired citizens to take their politics hard. And among several groups who have taken their politics harder than Americans did formerly are those who distrust the course set by the New Deal and the temperament of Franklin Roosevelt.

Campaign bitterness can still be easily put aside by an effort of good sportsmanship, as was shown four years ago when anti-Roosevelt businessmen rallied generally to pledge cooperation to the man elected by the Democratic majority. That pledge did not prove lasting, and for a good reason: good sportsmanship may banish bitterness engendered in the brief heat of a campaign, but it cannot make men believe in things which they have come to distrust progressively over a period of years.

The success of U.S. defense preparations may depend on more than loyalty--on the enthusiastic support and initiative of businessmen. The problem of national unity in 1940 may require that many a loyal citizen somehow be given a new faith in the Roosevelt administration.