Word: cartful
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...open their ears and imagine that they were back in the good old days of 1948. Arriving in Des Moines for Iowa's Jackson Day dinner, that self-styled "political has-been," Harry Truman, grinned happily at the sight of a team of midget mules hitched to a cart that bore the sign "Welcome, Harry. Give 'Em Hell." Said he: "I never did give 'em hell. I just told them the truth and they couldn't stand...
...again as he scans the morning papers. Soon he is dictating orders, directives and notes to his black-haired wife, her typewriter propped on a suitcase beside the bed. Before he is dressed, cars come honking down a narrow street usually disturbed only by the clump of a cart or a delivery boy's whistle, and men in leather coats and caps, or in ill-fitting tradesmen's suits, knock on the door of the big red brick house. A grocer who is now a Deputy of France lets them in, where they find their leader munching...
...extravaganza. The turning point seems to come after Roderick, gurgling, "Wenches, laughter, song! That's what we need around this old castle," sends his men out to scour the countryside. In an amusing take-off on Western posse scenes the King's men roll about the land picking up cart-loads of wenches. The cameras linger on the wenches, and good clean medieval escapades soon outdo their parody; after this, The Court Jester becomes a one-man show. Since the man is Danny Kaye, one of him is enough...
...last day of his Georgia vacation he shot 18 holes of golf, hunted for two hours, sat up till 12:30 playing bridge.) There was an almost clinical detachment in his behavior on the golf course, where, ignoring his doctors' recommendation that he stick to the electric cart, he regularly turned to his companions to say, "Now let's walk a bit." The only possible conclusion was that the President was testing himself...
...Little Frightened." Ike turned from hunting to his first love-golf. At Thomasville's Glen Arven Country Club, the President, undeterred by a drizzle, played a nine-hole round for the first time since his heart attack. Moving from hole to hole in an electric cart, Ike shot a 47. (Par for the nine: 36.) His long shots were ragged-he was obviously reluctant to hit down into the ball-and as he left the course he remarked: "I'm a little frightened, not only of the strokes, but also I'm a little frightened of myself...