Word: hatting
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...London and Rome, poured into New York, where Writer Robert McLaughlin, with the aid of Researcher Vera Kovarsky, wrote the story for Senior Editor Edward Hughes. For the cover, Artist Boris Chaliapin reached back to two other men who had visions of French grandeur, and placed Napoleon's hat on Louis...
...argument is older than the New Frontier, and for all the Administration's talk of bold new solutions, it was oldfashioned (but never fully accepted) John Maynard Keynes doctrine. Though old hat to economists, it might be hard to sell to the Congress, or, for that matter, to the people. With a touch of irony. Congresswoman Griffiths pointed out to Gordon that "we began this Administration with a call for sacrifices, and when you offer a tax cut, it sounds as if you were not asking for a sacrifice." Yet. by advocating tax reduction with the budget deep...
...well-talcumed nymph lolls whitely against a background of Pepto-Bismol pink, her orange hair providing the final color clash that makes the whole thing undulate provocatively before the eyes. Another, in a great Flanders Field of a poppy-covered hat and a gold choker, stands scornfully akimbo; only the candid bareness of her monolithic bust keeps her from being some long-remembered Miss Gardner scolding the second grade before the class picnic...
Where did he get that hat? Not a fetish at all, according to Johnson; it belongs to his wife and he likes to paint it, with a change of flowers from time to time. "I get sheer pleasure out of painting that hat," he says. In any case, the device of painting hatted nudes seems to be uniquely Johnson's. Even the supremely nonchalant grisette caught picnicking in the buff with a brace of fully clad gentlemen in Manet's Le Déjeuner sur I'Herbe had the delicacy to remove her picture hat before sitting...
...Casimir. Over the years, his friends said, Casimir learned the knack of arriving at a sickbed just after the priest and just before the hearse. If the victim looked sick enough, Casimir would give him a quarter. "Go buy yourself some ice cream," he would say cheerily, tipping his hat to the dying man's family. Everyone knew that a quarter from Casimir had the chill of the grave on it. At funerals, the band would play John Casimir's Whoopin' Blues, and the woebegone wail of Casimir's clarinet sounded like a widow...