Word: doored
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Sirs: . . . "Bright and early one day last week a black Packard limousine with a U. S. crest on the door hummed through the maddening boulevard traffic of central Buenos Aires. As it passed, police snapped respectfully to attention" [TIME, Dec. 2]. . . . Now that's something I'd like to witness! I've often watched local policemen salute courteously, politely or sympathetically many cars official and otherwise, but I yet have to see a local cop or for that matter anyone in this country, in Latin American countries or any country in the world...
Sole lead emerged from the testimony of two other Leverett men, who remained in Cambridge over the holidays. Last Friday the pair, who wish their names withheld, claimed they heard a banging noise on the bank of mailboxes outside their door...
When the U.S. slammed the door on Mexican cattle imports last June, Mexicans were hopping mad. Nonsense, they said; those fine Brahma bulls (which they had imported from Brazil) did not have foot & mouth disease. But the bulls did carry the dread disease, and Mexican herds in four central states and the Federal District were infected. Last week, energetic President Aleman set in motion a $40 million, three-month campaign to smash the epidemic. Emergency squads prepared to slaughter and cremate as many as a million head of cattle-one-tenth of Mexico's herds...
...Masaryk became the fervent pleader of his country's lost cause after Munich. No Communist, Masaryk is now busy at his job of explaining to the Western world Czechoslovakia's new role as an ally of Russia. Says Masaryk: "There is no iron curtain in Czechoslovakia. . . . The door to the West is wide open. . . . We go along with Russia on the big European political issue, but that does not mean we are going to compromise on other things. . . . Give us the benefit of the doubt...
...land rushed down to the river a mile away. . . . The air was luminous. 'On a clear day you can see the Cats-kills,' " said the real-estate agent. He pushed open the door of the sweet old home. The door fell off its hinges and struck Mr. Blandings, the prospective buyer, on the right temple. " 'You'd have to do a little pointing-up here,' " said the agent, gesturing carelessly at a heap of stones that might once have been a fireplace. " 'Mind your head as we make the turn,' " he added, entering...