Word: tartly
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...tart-tongued Columnist Jack Scott, 43, of the Vancouver (B.C.) Sun, no target was ever more tempting than the Sun itself. He railed against the paper's promotion contests ("cynical seduction of a gullible public"), declared western Canada's biggest (circ. 211,012) and fattest daily was slow of foot and dull of eye. Critic Scott's proposal to brighten the Sun: "More deep reporting and vivid writing, the sort of thing that will grab the reader by the lapels and command his attention." Last September Scott got a chance to put up or shut...
...poverty and drudging jobs for many years. His eventual "success" comes only when he sells his play--and himself--to a greasy promoter who cuts out all the idealism and long speeches (two constituents, of course, of Osborne's own power), and changes the play's name to Telephone Tart. Another factor is his rejection by Mrs. Elliot's sister Ruth, the only other character in the play who thinks and talks and understands on his level...
...Fisher, the Archbishop of Canterbury, did just that. Asked to comment on a tract by Author Philip Toynbee (who argued that nuclear destruction was so terrible that the only solution was immediate disarmament and peace with the Russians on any terms, even surrender), the Archbishop had replied with a tart reminder that man cannot live by dread alone. Wrote the Archbishop...
...bustles through the messy, male-contrived world of finance like a housewife cleaning her husband's den-tidying trends, sorting statistics, and issuing no-nonsense judgments as wholesome and tart as mince pie. With such forthright energy, the New York Post's Sylvia Porter has made herself the most widely quoted financial writer in the U.S. Her column, "Your Dollar," is studied by Wall Street brokers, Washington economists, Chicago bankers and budget-conscious families from coast to coast. Under the impact of the recession, "Your Dollar's" syndication has almost doubled in the past year...
...only people who make love all the time are liars"), some charming lecherdemain in the scenes involving Maurice Chevalier and Hermione Gingold, a sexless performance from Caron and a lifeless one from Jourdan, a wonderful happy ending which wittily demonstrates that life has more tricks than an old tart, a singable (though not memorable) musical score, and enough bibelots, furbelows, fichus, berthas, boas, sconces, socles, credenzas, teapoys and Canterburies to deliriously overdecorate this most ornate of the cinema's recurrent funerals...