Word: abbotts
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...Liberals have found a new hero. His name is Douglas Charles Abbott, Minister of Finance. In his maiden budget speech last week, Abbott endeared the party to more than, 2,000,000 income-tax payers with a cut averaging 29%. At the same time he jumped into favorite's place in winter-book betting as a successor to William Lyon Mackenzie King...
...stage was well set for Abbott's first starring role. Hundreds had ridden or tramped through three inches of unseasonable snow to pack the House galleries. The only empty space was in the diplomatic gallery, where Britain's High Commissioner, Sir Alexander Clutterbuck, sat in lonely state, until the guards let the public in there, too. To the front bench, where he sat alongside beaming Mackenzie King, Abbott brought the same brisk, workmanlike manner he uses in his office...
...resoundingly good news. For the fiscal year ended March 31 there was "a surplus larger than the accumulated total of all the previous surpluses in our history." It was $352 million, and the national debt had been reduced by that amount-to slightly more than $13 billion. For 1947, Abbott expected the value of Canada's national product to increase from $11.1 to $12 billion. There was full employment, and "prosperity never exceeded in living memory...
Barefoot Boy with Cheek (book by Max Shulman; music by Sidney Lippman; lyrics by Sylvia Dee; produced by George Abbott) is another of those youthful musical frolics (Too Many Girls, Best Foot Forward) for which Producer Abbott has become famous-and a little fatiguing. This one's locale is the University of Minnesota, and its line-up includes a fraternity run like a clip joint, a lummox of a football star, a pinhead of a society student, a sourball of a professor, a strident campus Communist, and a freshman hero (Billy Redfield) who is mauled by coeds and made...
...kidded with all the subtlety of a fire alarm, though Philip Coolidge, as the dyspeptic professor, offers some deft deadpan satire. But Barefoot Boy, like its predecessors, trades mostly on zip, pace, and the sheer commodity value of youth itself. It gets a fair measure of these; but the Abbott trademark is beginning to seem perilously like a rubber stamp. And Barefoot Boy is very much poorer than its predecessors in the matter of music, and not quite so peppy in its dancing...