Word: armloaded
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There was a two-wheeled bicycle, a box marked "John's Toys-N Street," pink and blue covered parakeet cages, hatboxes, a generous supply of French wines, and a bulging briefcase bearing the initials J.F.K. A maid arrived, carrying an armload of White House guidebooks. A Washington florist delivered yellow chrysanthemums. Then, just after 1 p.m., a black White House limousine arrived, and out stepped Jackie, Caroline and John Jr. Accompanying them were Bobby and Ethel Kennedy, who chatted for half an hour, then left Jackie smiling at the front door...
This merry memoir by a hard-shirking 18th century wrongdoer proves that the wicked and slothful do not always suffer for their sins. William Hickey, the son of a prosperous London attorney, gathered rosebuds by the armload for the greater part of his life, suffered no ill effects except those that could be cured by doses of mercury, and showed no inclination either to repent or boast when cooling blood gave him the leisure to write it all down...
Each morning the President arrived at his West Wing office carrying an armload of newspaper clippings and memoranda written in his hasty scrawl. One morning, staffers found him in the mail room, opening letters himself and writing instructions across them. In his eagerness to get things done, Kennedy has developed a "prodding list" of matters that he feels he must pursue, has learned, as all Presidents do, that he sometimes has to ask three times to get things done. On his telephone, the President has installed a console of pushbuttons, enabling him to bypass secretaries and instantly reach the inner...
...words per minute-every word clearly and distinctly enunciated. He can drown out any competition merely by raising his rasping voice an octave. (His younger sister Frances remembers him as a South Dakota newsboy: "When he stood out there on Main Street in front of the drugstore, holding an armload of St. Paul Dispatches, you could hear him all over town.") His 8½-hour filibuster with Soviet Premier Nikita Khrushchev left the interpreters reeling; Humphrey has talked about it ever since. Once, as a graduate student at the University of Minnesota, he appeared on a radio program with Classmate...
...Jawaharlal Nehru dismounted at Birla House, a large English-style cottage, and strode across the green lawn in the glittering afternoon sunshine that drenched the surrounding fir trees and the distant snowy peaks of the Himalayas. A line of Tibetan officials bowed to Nehru, presented him with an armload of ceremonial white scarves. The curtains parted in the main doorway, and out stepped the smiling Dalai Lama for his first meeting with Nehru since the God-King of Tibet fled the Red Chinese reconquest of his homeland (TIME, April 13). "How are you?" asked Nehru. Answered the Dalai Lama...