Word: frocked
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...Manhattan wears the vulgar razzmatazz of Christmas like a frock coat--underneath she is the same old town you'd see the other 11 months, carrying out, as ever, her inevitable business. Explore her infinity on your own, put your own ear to her breast, then hear her internal rumblings. You must slow yourself down, not rush through on Gray-Line sightseeing tours, inundated by some puerile spiel. "Man," wrote Jon Hendricks in a jazz poem to Manhattan, "if you can't make it in N.Y. City you can't make it nowhere .... I wrote the shortest jazz poem...
...sandbag the audience. In the middle of a revue, the M.C. walked down to the footlights and said, "Is there any little girl here who would care to sing to us?" Up shot a hand in the stalls. In a flap of pigtails, this little hoyden in a party frock climbed up on the stage. "Don't feel frightened little girl, just sing," said the M.C. So Julie Andrews opened her mouth and the vast hall filled with the "Polonaise" from Mignon. She had the voice of a woman. "I was a child freak," she says...
Multiple Betrayals. Fuentes vivisects this dying body of corruption to excite disgust and detestation in the reader. The reveries of Cruz take in a cruel, gaudy life that spans the Revolution. He remembers himself as a barefoot boy in Veracruz blasting the face off a frock-coated oppressor with a shotgun; as a fugitive in Sonora; as a liberator on horseback defeating the federal artillery. He takes a hacienda for the people and the haciendado's daughter for himself. He becomes a general, begins to enrich himself. The betrayals are multiple, and by the time Fuentes lets...
...look chic, Jeanne," said Mme. Georges Pompidou, wife of France's Prime Minister, to the milkmaid at the Pompidous' country place. Jeanne was indeed a fetching sight: gold sandals, gay striped frock in the latest mode, gleaming pearl fingertips. "Merci, madame," replied Jeanne. Then she explained how a farmer's daughter so far from Paris could keep up so surely with style changes: "I read Elle...
...battalion of frock-coated military-academy cadets stood ramrod straight; eight mariachi bands and two brass bands took their positions. Fifteen thousand people milled around expectantly. Across the airport roof stretched a sign etched in blue flowers: "Francia y México par la Paz del Mundo-Viva Francia." Then out of a warm, clear sky whistled the white-and-blue-trimmed Caravelle carrying Charles de Gaulle. Down the steps he lumbered, over to a red dais, and to the first crack of a 21-gun salute, France's towering (6 ft. 4 in.) President leaned low and bussed...