Word: saddlebags
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What has changed, drastically, is the purpose of the scholarships themselves. Cecil Rhodes, who used to ride across the veld with a well-worn copy of Plato in his saddlebag, wanted the scholarships to go not to mere "bookworms," but to well-rounded leaders-"the best men for the world's fight." As it turned out, Rhodes scholars have been on the bookish side. Certainly they are anything but the tight little band of political elite that Rhodes hoped would run the English-speaking world. Of the 2,831 selected since 1903, almost half have gone into...
Colonel Meinertzhagen was the man who fooled Franz von Papen in Palestine [during World War I], exposing himself to a chase by German cavalry and losing a saddlebag full of carefully prepared misleading information about General Allenby's plans. Meinertzhagen, moreover, is the only living European . . . who has entered the hallowed and mysterious cave of Machpelah* in the tomb of the patriarchs at Hebron...
Harry Truman had the weight of facts and logic on his side. Politicians had outdone themselves carving out weirdly shaped districts designed to increase their power at the expense of their opponents. Illinois had "saddlebag" and "beltline" districts; Mississippi had a "shoestring" district, 40 miles wide and 600 miles long; and Massachusetts still has a scrawny, lizard-shaped district, resembling the original gerrymander, laid out in 1812 to preserve the political power of Governor Elbridge Gerry. In Ohio's 22nd District, Representative Frances P. Bolton served 698,650 constituents, but in the 10th District, Representative Thomas A. Jenkins spoke...
...sour-faced man with saddlebag eyes gingerly picked his way past a covey of dancing girls, glared at the cameras and sneered: "That is the finale of the old Jack Carter program . . . our show starts where the others leave off." Old friends remembered the touch. After a year in semiretirement, Fred Allen was back this week in the gold mines, digging for all he was worth and giving entertaining signs of hating every minute...
...early cowpunching days, before the turn of the century, Clayton S. ("C.S.") Price kept a sketchbook in his saddlebag and tried earnestly to draw what he saw around him. But the Price paintings on display in a Manhattan gallery last week bore little or no relation to his early sketches. C.S. Price, 75, had long ago given up "just painting pictures" to translate his own emotions into thick dull smears of paint...