Word: baths
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...bole (instead of the anvil imbedded in stone of Malory's story), and after a grunt-and-sweat match, Medrodus fails to draw it out and Artos succeeds. Picking up a few tricks from the new company he keeps, Medrodus knifes old Ambrosius in the bath, and pricks his own veins in blood brotherhood with Artos, the new Count of Britain, who dubs him Medrawt...
When he returns to Saint-Céré, where a housekeeper takes care of his two youngest children in a new house he has rented (no central heat, no bath, meals in the kitchen), the town elders glance up from their cards and shrug: "It's only Pierrot." But his organization men, waiting in the backroom, are excited and cordial, report happily of hundreds of new dues-paying members since election, listen while Poujade regales them with a bit of gossip from the big city and a lot of Poujade propaganda...
Inspection in the Bath. In Paris, tiny (4 ft. 10 in.), trim Hattie was a reigning queen. At the ateliers of the top designers, her slightest show of interest made heady columns of news in Vogue and Harper's Bazaar. (In later years she learned to gush at the models that bored her, and to look bored at those she intended to promote.) Her suite at the Ritz was invariably a bedlam, with delivery boys, salesmen and hatboxes filling up the living room; Hattie herself sometimes held forth in the bathtub, shrewdly appraising the hats and accessories that were...
...some revelry in Miami, ripening (54) Bon Vivant Lucius ("Luscious") Beebe, now publisher of the Virginia City, Nev. Territorial Enterprise, rolled into Jacksonville in his elegant private railroad car (accouterments: three master bedrooms, a Turkish bath, a wine closet, a St. Bernard dog woofing to the name of Mr. T-Bone Towser). Local reporters converged on the track where Beebe was parked with his traveling companion, Charles Clegg. Q.: "How much did this rolling stock cost?" Beebe (Shuddering slightly): "That's vulgar!" Clegg (to newsmen): "I wouldn't ask how much your suit cost." Beebe: "But Governor Harriman...
Tristram von der Fingern Lachen sneered down his wrinkled nose at the pampered dandies around him. His aristocratic toilet-a bath in olive oil and a dousing with detergent-had been completed at home. Great Danes are just too big to do all of their primping in public. But smaller breeds in the Westminster Kennel Club show at Manhattan's Madison Square Garden last week turned the rank and echoing Garden cellar into a tonsorial riot. Handlers and owners worked over their charges like anxious mothers. Long hair was stripped and scissored, combed and brushed; paws were groomed...