Word: scotches
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...their arms - a gesture resembling the party salute - to illustrate the song's last line: "That's where the tall corn grows!" Later the Russians learned the words, sang it themselves with gestures (but no clenched fist). At a cocktail party they passed up vodka, instead tried Scotch and bourbon highballs. Scoffed one of them: "This stuff could not down...
Early last year the West German firm of Peter Meyns bought sodium bichromate and potassium bichromate (used in tanning leather) and paraffin wax from the U.S., had the chemicals shipped to West Germany. The Glasgow firm of Arbuckle, Smith & Co., a topnotch forwarding outfit which ships most of the Scotch whisky to the U.S., then stepped in and bought the consignment. Shortly afterward, the U.S. Commerce Dept. charged that Arbuckle, Smith had shipped the chemicals to Red China, where they would bring $100,000, or almost double their U.S. price. The Bureau of Foreign Commerce asked Arbuckle, Smith...
...heroine of In a Farther Country is a New York-exiled New Mexican named Marietta McGee-Chavéz. She is Scotch-Irish-Spanish, dreams interminably about the Old World but lives on gloomy West 23rd Street with a shopkeeper named MacDougal. Author Goyen's point is that great emotional disunity results when so many different elements are present, e.g., how can a woman dream about "birds and bells in a romantic musical city" when a guy with a name like MacDougal is trying to climb into bed with her? How can she capture the ravishing spells...
Distraught Marietta tries in various ways to exclude the worst of her mixed elements: she bars her ivory tower to poor MacDougal (symbol of Scotch commerce), spends hours doting on a road runner bird (symbol of the Old Spanish Southwest) in the pet department at Woolworth's (23rd Street branch). She opens her door to a bevy of characters as split-and-mixed as herself; they spin poetic stories in a troubadourish vein, seek peace and unity in the heart of a whirl of fantasy. In a Farther Country fades out with Marietta and one of her wacky acquaintances...
Father's Coat. First stop on their itinerary was London. The mayor, in a natty, brown-checked suit and a vivid yellow-striped tie, was unabashed to find his British welcomers all dressed up in formal attire. Downing a quick Scotch-on-the-rocks at London Airport, he gazed at the dense horizon of top hats and sighed. "I guess I'll have to buy one," he said. "I haven't worn a topper since last St. Patrick's Day parade." At a luncheon a few days later, Wagner was properly turned out in formal dress...