Word: rolltop
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...French service, chamber music at lunch, tea dances, swing bands at dinner, concerts, movies, Cokes, local gin and beer. Signs grinned: '"No Saluting." For nothing or for a few francs, they could hire bicycles, sunbathe, play at the Lawn Tennis Club, take American Express tours in the big rolltop busses. There were canoes, pedallo boats and sloops with which to negotiate the blue Mediterranean. Most incredible of all: if any of them got taken drunk, gentle MPs put them gently...
...country's most sapient reporters, with a special knack for observations which others have felt but never quite got down in Will White's bumblebee prose. Fortnight ago Editor White, back home from a trip to Washington and New York, stuck his stubby legs under his rolltop desk in the Emporia Gazette office and dictated three editorials. Once again, Editor White came up with much that was simple, clear and knowing...
...basketball middle, baggy, tweedy clothes, shoulders slightly hunched from the desk years, a cherubic, apple face and a toothy mouth out of which he talks enthusiastically sidewise-Will White had strolled into his office at 8:30 that morning, as always. From the chaos on his ancient rolltop desk he had picked, with deftness born of experience, the morning's mail, had summoned Mrs. Minnie Yearout, his longtime secretary, and dictated letters...
Operaman Gallo keeps out of the red by paring expenses to the bone. Instead of having an executive staff, he handles all decisions and details himself, working at a rolltop desk in a mousy Broadway office building. He pays no fancy salaries: minimum for principals is $40 a performance. On the road, San Carlo's orchestra numbers only 23, the total company 100-odd. Expense-conscious Fortune Gallo once spied the orchestra's harpist strolling down the street while a Rigoletto performance was going on, angrily inquired why he was not in the pit. To the harpist...
...Denver, last week, a towering, stoop-shouldered, stub-bearded old Scotsman pushed back his chair from behind an ancient rolltop desk, clapped on his battered Stetson at a rakish angle, and ambled through the door. Lord Ogilvy, 79, ace feature writer on the Denver Post for the last 30 years, started down the street...