Word: ordered
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...American public couldn't see much either. Buried in the penultimate paragraphs of John Burns' stories in The New York Times, every once in a while, were descriptions of white farmers (who control most of the country's arable land) assembling their black workers and local villagers together in order to lecture them on the importance of voting. The farmers and the government would then provide "armed escorts" to the polls. The purpose of the escort service, of course, was to prevent those nasty Patriotic Front guerillas from messing with the democratic process. Burns and the wire services reporters made...
...People have to understand that we must end the war economy in order to attain a decent standard of living," he added...
...U.S.N.. 38, that is, who as the President's naval aide has also been his bagman. Reason dogged Carter across the country and the world carrying a familiar black bag, a.k.a. "the football," stuffed with necessary signal codes and target information in case the President had to order instant retaliation for a nuclear attack. Reason, who at 6 ft. 3 in. is easily visible behind his 5-ft, 9½-in. fellow Annapolis graduate, had to scramble last month when Carter, vacationing in Plains, slipped away to go fishing alone without informing anyone. The bagman is tossing...
...Blackett, head of Blackett and Webb, the firm whose farflung enterprises frame most of the novel's action, is a buccaneer abroad and a fond family man at home. Yet Blackett is such a compleat capitalist that he is willing to trade his daughter like a commodity in order to pump up the profits. His opposite is young Matthew Webb, a bumbling idealist who despises colonialism but offers no better alternative than a vague new brotherhood...
...severed leg of lamb, "where you see the ends of the muscles, nerves, sinews and bone of one piece matching a similar ar rangement in the other." His characters "sink their teeth" into "weighty problems," accept things "lock, stock and barrel," and come to clanging conclusions like: "The old order of things was as dead as a doornail." After an hour or two of this, who could be blamed for edging away from the bar, despite Farrell's undoubted substance and seriousness, and going inside for some dinner? Anything but leg of lamb...