The starkest anti-Hillary of all is the current front-runner for the office. It's clear to all who meet her that Laura Welch Bush -- the demure Texan who tamed the once-wild mustang now known as Texas Governor George W. Bush -- differs considerably from the woman whom she would succeed, and not just regarding the apparent success of her bronco-busting.

A former elementary school teacher and librarian, Laura Bush exudes proper ladylike schoolteacher manners and discipline. Texas reporters say that though she's growing more comfortable in the campaign limelight, she does not relish it, often preferring to huddle anonymously in the back of the rooms during Dubya's gubernatorial meet-and-greets. She prefers to focus her energies on raising her twin teenage daughters. Though she taught until her daughters were born, she is the female prototype whom Hillary Clinton derided in '92 for staying at home and baking cookies, and not pursuing the professional path Hillary pursued at the now-infamous Rose Law Firm.

"She's a very loving, caring, compassionate person, and America would see that and feel that," says George W.'s friend and money man, Don Evans. "Her priorities are her faith and her family and her friends." As first lady of Texas, Laura Bush has spent her capital on that most uncontroversial issue that her mother-in-law, former first lady Barbara Bush, addressed: combating illiteracy.

But while George W.'s brother, Marvin Bush, says that his sister-in-law, is "cerebral and very steady," he says that as a first lady she would be even more subdued and less of a spitfire than his mother. "My mom would probably be a little more of a maverick than Laura," Marvin says, "Mom has that wise-cracking sense of humor. Laura's more mellow." Marvin says that first lady Laura Bush would combine the altruism of his mother with the "grace" of Jackie Kennedy.

When a potential first lady makes matronly Barbara Bush sound wild and crazy, you know you're talking about a return to more subdued times than Hillary wrought.

"Look," George W. said to the Texas Monthly in 1996, "Laura and I read the paper together every morning, and we discuss different issues. She's always asking what I'm going to be doing about this or that. But I think she trusts me to make the right decisions."

Of course, in an article on first ladies, we can't ignore the question "What about Bob?" After all, we have a relatively serious candidate for first gentleman: former Senate Majority Leader Bob Dole, Republican of Kansas.

Bob Dole is of course a special entity unto himself. Having run for the vice presidency in '76, and the presidency in '80, '88 and '96, he can be forgiven for any Schadenfreude he might be taking in his wife's somewhat underwhelming candidacy. In fact, some believed Bob's biggest attention-getter to date -- admitting he was mulling over a financial contribution to the campaign coffers of his wife's rival, Sen. John McCain -- underscored not only the obvious gender difference afoot, but might have provided a disconcerting peek into the sourpuss recesses of a candidate who was always a bridesmaid, never a bride.

If any senator alive had earned the right not just to the nomination but the whole enchilada, it was the war hero turned loyal GOP foot soldier. The speculation was that his rambling mid-May New York Times interview -- in which he discussed giving cash to McCain -- was directly attributable to the fact that his wife's new role in the limelight was eating him up inside.

While that interpretation might be understandable, it's also forgetful. Bob Dole's always been a straight shooter. For him to suddenly emerge as a spirit bunny for Liddy 2000, after a generation and a half of callin' it like it is, would just be contrary to his nature. So saying, as he did, that his wife's campaign was "getting there," or that "It's too early to tell" if she'd be able to mount a strong challenge to Al Gore, well, that's just Bob being honest. Plus, as chuckling pundits failed to mention, when John McCain was a POW at the Hanoi Hilton, Bob Dole was wearing a POW bracelet in his honor almost the entire time -- years before he married Elizabeth Hanford.

Still, since those comments, Bob Dole has all but vanished. Dole himself didn't return calls for comment, but Elizabeth Dole's communications director, Ari Fleischer, joked that he had been "sent to the woodshed" after the NYT interview -- one can only hope that the trip didn't end up at the woodchipper -- but adds that now the former senator "has escaped."

So what kind of role can we expect from the first "first gentleman" (the nomenclature that Fleischer says "the two of them have decided upon")? Interestingly, even though Bob Dole could serve as a cabinet secretary for anyone -- and has even carried out various missions in Kosovo on behalf of his '96 opponent -- the first thing Fleischer says is that "Elizabeth Dole has made it clear that it will not be a co-presidency."

In fact, the picture Fleischer paints of the former senate majority leader is that of a traditional first spouse: "The senator will devote considerable amount of time toward helping those with disabilities, as he has done throughout his life." He adds that the Kansan will also take a role in agricultural issues. But as an advisor, Bob Dole will be just like any other White House spouse. "They have a close marriage," Fleischer says, and in that role "they talk to each other, share ideas and thoughts like any other couple."

While Dole would certainly make history as the first first husband, if he adopts a kinder, gentler incarnation, he would also fit a historical pattern. The fact that Laura Bush, Cindy McCain, Tipper Gore, Ernestine Bradley and Dole are not only positioning themselves as non-Hillaries, but are also genuinely different from her, is historically par for the course.

Groundbreaking first ladies are always followed by more quiet types: Florence Harding, who lobbied for equal pay for women, was succeeded by Grace Coolidge, an apolitical teacher for the deaf; Eleanor Roosevelt -- a whirling dervish on behalf of civil rights, women's rights, and the New Deal -- begat Bess Truman, who never even gave an interview.

"These sorts of 'benchmark' women [like Harding, Roosevelt or Clinton], who seem to somehow embody the popular idealized notion of the new American woman, get a lot of press and a lot of attention, and this whole persona develops that frequently has little to do with who each is as a person," Anthony says. "They're always followed by women who are perfectly intelligent and capable, but they're not lobbyists or public advocates."

At least, that's what they want us to think.

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