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By Sue Anne Pressley
Washington Post Staff Writer
Saturday, March 7, 1992; Page B01

RICHMOND -- It was a Tom Moss moment: There he stood, watching from the speaker's podium as the Virginia House of Delegates recently debated a bill about fox hunting. He listened, he grinned, and he couldn't resist.

"If the gentleman says he's never been to a fox hunt," Moss cut in with his Tidewater drawl, "he's never been to the bar at the Holiday Inn downtown."

It was the kind of winky-wink line that Thomas W. Moss Jr. has become famous for in his 26 years in the House, the kind of double entendre that has caused him to be criticized as sexist, and the kind of comment he generally has avoided in his first term as speaker of the House.

After the remark, two of Moss's closest women advisers, Del. Leslie L. Byrne (D-Fairfax) and Del. Jean W. Cunningham (D-Richmond), promptly marched to his office. "I told him, 'You promised us you wouldn't do that anymore,' " Byrne said with a laugh. "And he said, 'I was just struck by the spirit.' "

As the session draws to a close, Moss, 63, is more likely to be delivering lines such as, "The House will please be in order." It has been a time of transition for the former majority leader and for the other members of the House of Delegates. They are adjusting to a new lineup of leaders after the death last year of A.L. Philpott, the longtime speaker, his replacement selected in an intense fight for the speaker's job between Moss and Del. C. Richard Cranwell (D-Vinton), who is now the majority leader.

Philpott ruled for 11 flinty years, and believed in leadership by intimidation: rapping his gavel with a report like a rifle shot and leveling scorching looks at any legislators who dared to displease him. Moss, by contrast, has brought some of his aged college-boy humor to the role and a more laid-back style that has drawn mostly good marks from Democrats and Republicans.

They say he even has brought a new decorum to House proceedings, with his precise knowledge of parliamentary rules, and they applaud his efficiency in guiding legislation through the House, and his fairness (to a fault, some say) in making appointments to key committees.

"Overall, he's done a very good job. I haven't heard much criticism at all," said one of the lawmakers most likely to want to criticize Moss, the House minority leader, Del. S. Vance Wilkins Jr. (R-Amherst).

By virtue of his new office, Moss has become a power in state politics, and he is assured a place in history. His name will be added to the engraved list of speakers -- dating all the way back to 1619 -- that lines the walls of the small but stately House chamber.

He also is the leader of an intimate club of legislators. Virginia has 100 delegates, compared with, for example, Maryland, a smaller state that has 141. Everybody knows everybody else, and the personalities are not hidden as the delegates consider more than 2,000 pieces of legislation each term.

For Moss, a Norfolk lawyer and the son of a paper salesman, the speaker's job is the pinnacle of his career: He loves it, he said, and he doesn't want any other office. But he admits that he is following a new policy of restraint. "I have had to curb my sense of humor," he said.

Known since his Virginia Tech days for his appreciation of "pretty girls," as a friend once said, Moss was taken to task in newspaper reports a decade ago for his treatment of women, and since then has adopted a rather cautious attitude with the news media. "That's past history," he said last week about the old charges.

But people still remember the story from 1980 about Moss bussing a Common Cause lobbyist in an elevator at the General Assembly building, then asking her later, "Did you enjoy your elevator ride?" There were several other stories involving flirtatious behavior, and Moss often has been a fixture at the aforementioned Holiday Inn, the favored legislative watering hole, where he is known to belt out "Danny Boy" when particularly relaxed. Some delegates, however, say that Moss, who is married to his second wife, Lorna, and has three grown children, gradually has tempered with the times.

"People in general are on much better behavior, and I don't say that as if the behavior was bad," said Del. Thomas M. Jackson Jr. (D-Wythe), who supported Cranwell for speaker but said he has grown to appreciate Moss's open style. "Everybody's learning that even from 7 to 10 at night, they are subject to public scrutiny." Moss, he said, "has been a perfect gentleman," a point echoed by several of the women delegates.

Although the speaker's job is powerful, it also is largely one of ceremony and procedure, and Moss is considered well suited to those duties. A champion of the Democrats-vs.-Republicans kind of partisan debate, he typically has not been in the thick of legislative battles. And while he has been responsible for some important legislation -- the liberalization of the state alcohol beverage laws and a marital-rape law in 1986 -- some delegates agree that it might be the best use of talents to have Cranwell leading the floor debates and Moss monitoring the action from the podium.

"A lot of people argue that the House is actually stronger the way it turned out," Jackson said. "One of the strengths of Tom Moss is that he has allowed Dickie Cranwell to lead."

Said Moss, "I think everybody expected Dickie and me to have problems, and we have not had the first one." Cranwell compliments Moss "on a superb job."

Nevertheless, it has been a fractious year in the Virginia House of Delegates, with power fragmented, as shown by the back-and-forth battle over Gov. L. Douglas Wilder's half-billion-dollar bond package. There also have been plenty of lighter moments.

Under Moss's rule, there may be a new decorum, but at the same time, a certain irreverence has reigned. Earlier this week, while a poultry and livestock bill was being considered, the House suddenly turned into a barnyard of clucking delegates. "No more chickens," Moss said finally, striking the gavel.

Although it's true that there probably would have been a few clucks in Philpott's time, delegates say they now feel freer to express themselves, to indulge occasionally in such silliness. Still, there has been some grumbling. "Under past speakers, we didn't have so much barking and clucking," said Minority Leader Wilkins. "Tom has tried, but I'm not sure he can do anything about it."

Comparisons between Moss and his predecessor are inevitable, and there are some delegates who say privately that Moss will never have Philpott's influence or respect. But people do seem to like him.

Linda T. "Toddy" Puller (D-Mount Vernon), a freshman legislator, has known no other speaker, and she said she appreciates the way Moss has listened to her and advised her when she approached him this session for help on a procedural question. As a bonus, she said, she got a taste of that irrepressible Tom Moss humor.

"He cupped his hands together like this," Puller said, demonstrating the gesture, "and said, 'Oooh, you're just like a little baby in my hands.' "

Staff writer John Ward Anderson contributed to this report.