Word: drawerfuls
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...News was doing fine without them, in the hands of two home-town boys: Francis M. Flynn, the general manager, and Richard W. Clarke, the executive editor. Last week Bertie, Cissie and fellow directors of Chicago's Tribune Co? (which owns the Daily News) gave them top-drawer titles...
...triumphant Hollywood homecoming for two efficient ex-soldiers. Producer-Director Frank Capra (It Happened One Night, Mr. Deeds Goes to Town), ex-Signal Corps colonel who bossed the making of such outstanding wartime documentaries as San Pietro, has lost none of his civilian cunning at whipping up top-drawer entertainment. He is still one of Hollywood's most talented moviemakers. Actor James Stewart, who worked his way up without ballyhoo from buck private to Air Forces colonel (and bomber-wing commander), has also boosted his rank as an actor. Having put aside his aggressively boyish, aw-shucks screen mannerisms...
...mass of stripes and polka-dots hanging behind his closet door, came up with a knitted crimson affair, and carefully knotted it between button-down collars. "Mustn't forget the other thing either," he said to no one in particular, and reaching tenderly into the towel and sheet drawer, he came up triumphantly with a pint of whiskey. He eased this into the left hand pocket of the coat with the mousy fur collar. "All set," said...
...able to show the world what you are made of. . . ." Germans, who still talk of "Unser Her mann," accepted the appeal as genuine, chalked phrases from it on walls and began to greet each other with "Forget . . but remember." Locked in the Allied Control Council's "top secret" drawer in Berlin is the unpublished and (the Council hopes) only authentic version of Goring's last message. To suggestions that the original be released to scotch the phonies, the Council has stubbornly replied: "We shall not spread German propaganda - this would be like oil on a fire...
...another princely sprig, millionaire, archduke and demimondaine of the fey '90s, Maxim's in Paris' rue Royale was the most elegant bistro in Europe, the gaudiest symbol of the mauve decadence. Its décor was the most glittery, its women the most ravishing, its top-drawer scandals the most toothsome. No Manhattan nightclub captain was ever so suave or tactful as Maxim's famed, monocled Chasseur Gérard, who, with a handy grasp of the Almanach de Gotha unsurpassed by any dowager in Europe, discreetly arranged introductions between the world's great ones...