Word: icing
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...night settled on the capital of all the Russias, white shirt fronts gathered in rigid radiance and evening gowns swayed scented attendance: Foreign Minister Molotov was giving a banquet for his fellow peacemakers. The dinner (caviar, pheasant, ice cream) was almost frugal by official Soviet standards, and the toasts were grimly optimistic. Said Ernie Bevin as he proffered his glass: "We four must not let the people of today or tomorrow say there were men who had a chance to save the world and muffed...
...almost like the old days when Howie Morenz roamed the ice, and the loyal hockey fans, who called themselves les millionaires, sat in the Montreal Forum's cheap seats, wearing white woolen caps, drinking whiskey blanc and chanting piously, "Les Canadiens sont là" (The Canadiens are right in there). Now the cheap seats had gone and with them les millionaires, but Montreal showed last week that it still knew how to encourage its heroes...
Tribute from Toronto. Silver-haired Dick Irvin, le coach of Les Canadiens for the past six years, is not modest about them. He calls them "the greatest ice hockey team the world has ever seen." From Conn Smythe, rough-&-tumble manager of the rival Toronto Maple Leafs, recently came a less biased tribute: his all-star sextet had five of Les Canadiens on it. Most of their players were homegrown kids who learned the game on Montreal's frozen ponds...
...militant little paper took sides against the invading Japanese. When they tried to silence him with bribes and threats, Powell sneered at them and lined his pressroom doors with steel. The day after Pearl Harbor, the Japs shut up his shop, and later clapped Editor Powell into filthy, ice-cold Bridgehouse Prison. Before he got out, starvation had cut his weight in half, and gangrene had turned his feet into shapeless lumps...
...Jove Arkady descends on St. Petersburg to win his thunderbolts, he gets smacked around by as wild a gang of personalities as ever smudged the pages of a Russian novel. They range from desperate male & female aristocrats, struggling frenziedly to retain their power and money, to hordes of sly, ice-hard usurers, pimps and blackmailers. The never-ending battle between these two groups is fought out in luxurious palaces, in squalid lodging houses, and cafés filled with the thick stench of "burned meat, restaurant napkins, and tobacco...