Word: menfolk
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...days later, in the drab green patients' dayroom of the Naval Hospital, red-eyed mothers stood beside stiff-backed menfolk in their Sunday best for the grimmest inquest in local history. "You have seen Body No. 1?" the coroner asked one couple. "Yes." "Were his full names Raymond Peter Cross?" "Yes." "Was he aged eleven years?" "Yes." "Thank you. Will you sign here?" And so it went. Trained nurses led a stream of weeping witnesses in & out of the room. Alone and unnoticed at the back stood Driver Samson, twisting his cap round & round in his hands, speaking...
Better to Live Poor. Despite their hardships, the Kazaks were cheerful. The men were clean-shaven and clear-eyed. The women's cheeks were like red apples; their flowing black robes were hung with silver coins to denote the wealth of their menfolk. Once-wealthy Kussa In himself displayed a huge Swiss watch at the end of a silver chain on his corduroy jacket. "Of the hundreds of horses I once owned," he said, "only six are left, and now I am selling them. But it is better to live poor in a land where one can follow...
...people of medieval Yvetot dethrone their king. Then the women find that their menfolk are too busy running the state to work their land or flatter their wives. So they rebel and restore the king. Meantime, the king does his bit by making love to a serving girl, who eventually becomes queen of Yvetot. That leaves the women in charge of things, as usual, and everybody takes it happily from there...
...Dixiecrat leader who had come out of political retirement to seek a third term and save Arkansas from Sid McMath and those Fair Deal radicals in Washington. Everywhere McMath went, he wore the same old blue suit, red tie and dilapidated Panama. He pumped the hands of the menfolk and introduced himself with a hearty "I'm Sid McMath." For the women, it was always a silken "I'm Sid McMath, honey...
...women a prestige formerly denied them: France's top literary honor, the august Prix Goncourt, is reserved for male authors only. Last week, the 17 elderly French women writers who award the Prix Femina found their task too grisly, seemed about ready to leave prize-giving to the menfolk. "Life in today's novel," said one of the judges in an interview, "is twisted to eroticism. For instance, in Le Jeu et I'Enjeu [a recent French literary success] there is a revolting story. Two rats-you heard me -two rats fall upon a bed where...