Word: banquetting
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Dinner (9:30 p.m.) is only rarely a banquet these days; sometimes there are only W. R. and Marion Davies. Oftener a few regulars show up, like Columnist Louella Parsons, Princess Conchita Sepulveda Pignatelli, society writer of the Los Angeles Examiner. Their host eats heartily (favorite delicacies: cracked crab, pheasant or duck just barely heated), and keeps the table talk on a high plane. Risque stories are out; Hearst recently reprimanded a woman guest who cut loose with a mild "damn." Every night the inevitable movie begins at 11, and bedtime...
...invested with the Order of Merit-shuttled between official receptions and informal garden parties, intransigent nationalists wilted left & right before the family's charm. Daniel Malan, nationalist leader of the opposition, conscientiously boycotted Parliament's address of welcome, but even he was on hand at the state banquet. In a Cape Town park, a group of ardent anti-Britishers enjoying a barbecue apologized for their open shirts and rolled-up sleeves when ubiquitous Smuts suddenly appeared and introduced them to the King & Queen...
...honored profession." Then they gave Miss Lizzie the presents everybody had chipped in to buy: a walnut desk, an armchair, an ottoman, a lamp and a radio. For good measure the board of Education tossed in a little brass schoolbell, which Miss Lizzie rang to end the banquet. It was also almost, not quite, the end to her 50 years of teaching: she plans to retire...
...time of the Yalta conference (the story goes), Beria was seated between two senior U.S. diplomats at the banquet table. Beria and his neighbors exchanged toasts-to Stalin, to Roosevelt, to peace, to friendship. Finally one American proposed: "To the people." Beria twisted his small mouth. "Why to the people?" he asked. "The people don't decide anything. The leaders decide. Now take the German people; they aren't bad people, but they got into the hands of bad leaders. So let's drink to the leaders...
...Kobak is an unpressed little man with a face that might have been clipped from any old banquet photograph -shy, inexact grin, blurred eyes, tired grey hair. Actually, he is a sensationally successful huckster, known far & wide among radiomen as The Great Salesman. He loves Donald Duck, practical jokes and the Notre Dame team. He signs his letters with a great big friendly "Ed." In his office is an eight-foot bull whip; Ed likes to snap it around and make like a slave-driver. But all his employees know that Ed is just kidding; he's really...