Word: beaver
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Atop the front page of his London Daily Express (circ. 4,077,835) Britain's indomitable No. 1 press lord has long emblazoned: CONTROLLING SHAREHOLDER LORD BEAVERBROOK. Last week the Express dropped the Beaver's line and announced that "the newspapers have passed out of his control." The Beaver had turned over his controlling shares to the Beaverbrook Foundation, which has been set up as a "British Empire educational trust." But the formal change did not mean that the Beaver was relinquishing any of the undisputed control he has exercised over the Express and his two other dailies...
Fleet Streeters guessed that the aging (75), still energetic Beaver was simply arranging his estate to reduce the inheritance tax. He would actually keep control of the papers through stock held by his ' son. Max Aitken, 44, and as chairman of the new Beaverbrook Foundation. Said the London Daily Mirror's William ("Cassandra") Connor: "Fleet Street was not taken in by Lord Beaverbrook's grave-faced, solemn announcement . . . Lord Beaverbrook is a practiced performer of the last and final farewell . . . There is nothing more joyful than lying concealed underneath the pew at your own funeral service-safe...
...Surrey estate, Britain's fireball sultan of the press, Lord Beaverbrook, who recently summed up his homilies of success in a book called Don't Trust to Luck, trotted out some more reminiscences on BBC's TV in a chat observing his 75th birthday. The Beaver paid tribute to such old departed friends as Rudyard Kipling and H. G. Wells, reaffirmed his 19th century devotion to the 19th century-brand empire. With a sentimental tremor in his voice, he closed: "This may be my last appearance on television, unless I am asked again when...
After two years, Tynan quit the Standard in a huff because the paper refused to stop printing letters criticizing his own acting. (Fleet Streeters also half-jokingly said that he infuriated his boss Lord Beaverbrook at a dinner party by blowing a smoke ring across the table into the Beaver's open mouth.) On Lord Rothermere's Sketch he found the tabloid an incongruous place for his erudite, allusive prose. But his new job on the more highbrow Observer is just the kind of spot that Tynan has wanted ever since Oxford. On the Observer, says...
...eccentric comes to stay in a small British town. He is one of the harmless kind who imagines he is Napoleon Bonaparte, carries a rabbit in his old-fashioned beaver, decks out in a Dickensian weskit and cravat, and parades the streets in perfect weather under an open umbrella, followed by mobs of delighted children. Everybody calls him Napoleon, and is happy to have him around for laughs. The beauty of it is that Napoleon, in a well-juggled ending, turns out to be not so mad after all-or is he really much, much madder...