The chief problem is neither the number nor the amount, large or small, of bounced checks. And it is largely irrelevant to the scandal whether or not the bounced checks cost the taxpayer a few pennies. The problem, instead, is one of privilege. The bouncing-checks incident is a reminder that many members of Congress believe they are entitled to what one abuser called "a useful service."

The lawmakers' initial denials and hapless reaction to the abuses have raised more questions about crisis-management skills in the House. Facing the steady drip . . . drip . . . drip from newspaper stories and outraged radio talk-show hosts, lawmakers and some aides initially tried to shut off the leaks and control the story's damage. Speaker Foley, in a rare moment of passion, forcefully ordered that the bad-checks cease. When that failed to stem the public outcry, he decided a few days later to shut the bank altogether. In a burst of nervous insincerity, the House, by 390-8, endorsed the closing and sent the question of possible misconduct to its Ethics Committee.

The checking scandal has also triggered a fervent bout of press-bashing among the congressional victims and their loyal aides. As the frenzied horde of reporters conducted their surveys and filed their checkmarks of saints and sinners, one veteran staffer termed it "the lowest form of pack journalism." Some singled out The Washington Post, in particular, for fanning the flames with repetitive page-one stories.