Word: legerdemain
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Confirmed as the new U.S. Ambassador to Ireland was Millionaire Contractor Matthew H. McCloskey, 69, a twinkly old brogan from Philadelphia who, as longtime Democratic National Committee treasurer, demonstrated his fund-raising legerdemain by staging the first $100-a-plate dinner in 1934. His potluck for politics held good when the Senate rejected a Republican attempt, 62-30, to return the nomination over some alleged finagling in the 1946 purchase of a Government-surplus shipyard by Entrepreneur Louis Wolfson. But a regular Irish stew may await McCloskey on the Quid Sod. Demonstrating his Gaelic at a Washington dinner, he bellowed...
...presto-chango piece of political legerdemain, President Kennedy last week sought to turn a humiliating legislative defeat into a campaign issue that could embarrass the Republican Party throughout election year...
Madame Mustache. In this unique view of history, it was the gambler's restlessness that helped push America westward, his flamboyant character that gave luster to frontier individualism, and his legerdemain and quick gun that often forced the coming of law and order. Gambling has also produced some of the most colorful characters in American history. There was Dr. Bennett, a riverboat gambler who invented thimblerig (which one has the pea?) and could still outwit the best of them at 70; Elijah Skagg, who became a millionaire by training youths in his shady science and sending them across...
...sold his 200-year lease (with options) on Manhattan's posh St. Regis Hotel to Mexico's Cesar Balsa, 37, a onetime bellhop whose nine-hotel chain in Mexico City and Acapulco is the largest in Central America. The sale completed the financial legerdemain begun last February when Webb & Knapp bought the St. Regis for $14 million. Two months later it sold the hotel to Manhattan's Kratter Corp. for $11 million, kept operating control. Webb & Knapp's estimated profit on the St. Regis deals...
...came Karandash, Russia's greatest clown, lost in a flapping green suit, grotesque beneath a scarlet wig, riding a donkey fitted with handle bars. He tumbled off, pulled out a hammer and a plate and began a flurry of legerdemain that ended in a sidesplitting snarl of chaos and shattered crockery. In blue tights flashing with gold, the three blonde Balakin sisters spun aluminum hoops in a shimmering blur. To the frantic rhythms of Khachaturian's Saber Dance, the three Gratchevs flung whole tribes of Indian clubs at one another while wobbling on a rope strung between...