Word: limes
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...hall, his audience was, as usual, two-thirds women, from bobby-soxers to grandmothers. They basked happily as his performances washed over them: folk songs, show tunes and his own arrangements of such classics as Debussy's Clair de Lime and Grieg's Concerto, most of which he played with artfully simplified fingerwork in the frillier runs. For a topper, he opened up his laryngitic baritone in a perennial favorite of the middleaged, September Song. When it was all over, he dangled his feet over a corner of the stage, signed his pictures, shook hands and accepted embraces...
...Ruiz Cortines considers the morning lime juice indispensable for good digestion. Once, when he was in New York, he ordered it for breakfast. The waiter was dumfounded. "He looked at me," says Ruiz Cortines, "as if I were ordering a dose of dynamite...
...baby rattles, kissed 150 babies, kindled 25 fires, put up 14 cook stoves, cut 15 cords of stove wood, promised twelve pups-the old female had only six. Carried 75 buckets of water, picked 25 gallons of blackberries, hauled 100 bags of dairy feed, unloaded 20 tons of lime; shook hands 9,000 times, told 500 lies, talked enough to make 10,000 volumes; attended 27 revivals, was baptised seven times by immersion and twice by some other way, contributed to foreign missions, walked 500 miles, knocked on 2,000 doors, got bit 39 times by dogs and then...
...captains had quit their jobs on the Lee Hong because of O'Brien during his enforced cruise on the ferry. Last March, after the unwelcome passenger threatened to "break every bone in your lime-juicing body," a third tossed him into the ship's brig, where O'Brien continued to do a profitable smuggling trade through a porthole. But none of O'Brien's peccadilloes could discourage the kindly agents of the U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees or the National Catholic Welfare Council from busily working for his release. "He's had his punishment...
...known that Sir Winston Churchill suffered a slight stroke,* and that it was followed by one mild relapse. But, leaving his Chartwell home last week, he posed cheerfully for photographers, and waddled unaided to his car. pausing on the way to admire a lime tree in the yard. Beside him on the car seat, in token of the busy days ahead, lay a box of black cigars. He headed for Chequers, Britain's country retreat for its prime ministers, which he does not like as well as Chartwell, though it is closer to the pulse of things. There...