Word: scottishly
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Partly Friendly. Then Viscount Mountbatten, clad in a dazzling white naval uniform, arrived with Lady Mountbatten. The crowd cheered him too, and a Scottish band, in kilts and Glengarry bonnets, piped a greeting. Shortly before their arrival, an Indian band, celebrating the separation of India's wandering child, had tooted somewhat tactlessly, "You'd Be Far Better Off in a Home."* Inside the Assembly Building, the Briton and the Moslem got down to the business of transferring power from the British Crown to the new dominion of Pakistan. It was a formal, cut-&-dried affair. Although Pakistan...
...Gude Sir Patrick Spens" in the old Scottish ballad was "the best when sailor that ever sail'd the sea." Nevertheless, when the King assigned him to command a bad-weather cruise to Norway, gude Sir Patrick asked a question his namesake may have cause to repeat: "O wha is this has done this deed and tauld the king...
...feminine curves on international espionage. In Above Suspicion and Assignment in Brittany, she created a creepy, spy-laden atmosphere where even secret agents feared to tread. In her latest novel, Friends and Lovers, she has abandoned the thriller for a ladies' magazine romance. Chief attraction: a headstrong Scottish lassie with her heart in the Highlands. She burns the torch for a callow young Oxonian, but its glow is no more than a soulless fluorescence, shedding little light, no heat...
...Company. A Scottish-born financier (director of the Bank of England), he was new to the old company when in 1931 he was called to be its governor to get it out of a financial jam. Today, Sir Patrick, 59, a big man with a glowing pink complexion, white toothbrush mustache and shaggy grey eyebrows, knows first-hand the many-sided operations of the company better than any of his predecessors. This week he is in Canada, to add to his knowledge...
...whipped up four-foot waves; at dawn there were thick, swirling mists so that his escorts in motor boats sometimes lost sight of him. Fifteen hours and 25 minutes after he had left Donaghadee, Tom Blower plodded up the beach in a misty little cove five miles from the Scottish village of Port Patrick. He looked back over his shoulder and said: "You bastard, I've conquered...