Word: fonds
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...this way: George S. Kaufmann was a truly witty man but he let his wit turn into wise-crack; and his successors, who are generally less witty, are even more fond of wisecracking, and these are the men who are setting the pace today. But this is enough on the theater...
Timeswoman Ruby Phillips has outlasted eleven Cuban governments, and has had a way with all of them. "Ruby knows as much about Cuba as I do," says ex-President Ramón Grau San Martin. Fulgencio Batista admired and respected the Timeslady. "Although Batista has no reason to be fond of our coverage," said Emanuel R. Freedman, the Times's foreign news editor and Ruby's boss, "she still enjoys his confidence." Ruby herself says simply: "I have good connections in every faction in Cuba...
...Doesn't He Laugh?" For all his military briskness, De Gaulle in private life is a fond family man. Particularly devoted to his daughter Anne (who was born sickly and died in 1948), he and Madame de Gaulle have founded in her memory an institution for retarded children. At the 14-room house in Colombey, where he still spends his weekends, he loves to play the patriarch of the clan, gathering about him his naval officer son Philippe, his daughter Elizabeth (married to an army officer), his three grandchildren, and as many as possible of his 17 nieces and nephews...
...part because of a distant tie to Lolita, many a reader who mixes some books with his comic strips is convinced that a teen-ager now raising temperatures in Dick Tracy (416 papers) is closely related, indeed, to the nimble nymphet. Slinky and scheming beyond her years, Popsie is fond of putting down her lollypop and bussing the cheek of Headache, a slot-machine maker who is not above bussing back. Cries Headache: "Owoo! That lollypop!" The very suggestion that Popsie and Lolita and Headache and Humbert are parallels draws howls of aggrieved outrage from Cartoonist Chester Gould who says...
...casual. Lippmann, a lean, angular and agile man of 69. is dressed carelessly in his writing habit: grey pullover sweater, corduroy slacks, white wool socks and loafers. He has taken breakfast with his wife Helen, a handsome woman decidedly Lippmann's intellectual peer. He has paid brief but fond attention to his French poodles, Vicky and Coquet. He has concluded thoughtful tours of three morning papers, with stops at all the international datelines. Across Woodley Road and through his study windows drifts the gay, playtime treble of his neighbors, the girls at National Cathedral School...