Word: peach
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Adlai & Mother. All through the hot day the train clacked through the almond groves and peach orchards of the Central Valley, and Kennedy pulled the stops, one by one. In Richmond, introducing his sister, Pat Lawford, it was American motherhood ("My wife is home, and we are having a baby-a boy-in November"). A reference to Adlai Stevenson drew loud cheers in Richmond, deep in Stevenson heartland. There were the in evitable home-grown beauties bearing gifts: olives and peaches in Red Bluff, a jug of water in Dunsmuir, a camellia plant in Sacramento (earlier in the week there...
...campuses to hear him in San Francisco. No such common denominator applies any more; his following has increased to multitudes, mainly in the big cities, which he has, in his own word, "saturated" by long stands of up to six months. He calls his followers "my people." Some have peach fuzz on their cheeks, and others have it on the tops of their heads. The one thing they share is a fondness for articulate irony and a sense of feeling "in." Occasional strays get up and walk out muttering "Communist," but the in-group would all understand the college freshman...
...likely to resent his independence even longer than that. The last thing Lumumba wants is to see Katanga's requirements for U.N. entry, absolute assurance of sovereignty, guaranteed. The province, containing a tenth of the Congo's people but almost half its wealth, is much too fruity a peach to be let out of Lumumba's grasp. The longer he can stretch out the Congo crisis, the more he will be able to delay a responsible settlement of his nation's affairs. Besides, such a settlement would again draw attention to the sticky question of his incredible promises to American...
Cliff Richard, as the uncut diamond, Bert Rudge, and the transformed glittering gem of a commercial property, Bongo Herbert, handles himself well while acting, but is unconvincing when he slides into song. His virile voice doesn't quite go with his peach-fuzzed cheeks...
...Eliot, in which the wrinkled old (71) poet stands with his arms looped fondly but awkwardly around the neck of his wholesome young (32) wife, his face caught in a quizzical expression, half doubt and half delight-a portrait of J. Alfred Prufrock, who has dared to eat a peach...