Word: tartness
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Lillian Hellman, tart-tongued problematic playwright, home from a four-month visit in the U.S.S.R., brought a startlingly simple solution to a major postwar problem: at the front she said she met "high-ranking Red Army men" who asked her what the U.S. is going to do about Argentina. When she countered, "What is Russia going to do about Franco?", the officers told her they would handle fascism in Europe, hoped the U.S. would do the same on this side of the world. Although Miss Hellman did not get to see Stalin, she did become one of the very...
Cancy and His Tart. Cancy enjoyed being marshal. He had more money than ever before; ladies bowed to him in the street. He was not supposed to touch liquor, but once in a while he would stop at a friend's house for a few slugs. He took up with a smooth little tart named Julie, who showed him the gay life on a visit to the state capital. Nobody but Editor Mabry and his son seemed to bother about the new marshal's goings-on. Cancy had the Negroes so scared that they would hardly venture...
...Educational Hobos?" A recent Army survey indicated that approximately 650,000 servicemen expect to go to college after they are discharged. But even this bonanza may not be an unmixed blessing. University of Chicago's tart President Robert Maynard Hutchins voiced his fears in a Collier's article last fortnight. Excerpts...
...labor dream of "one big union" appeared to have vanished for good last week. In a tart letter to top A.F. of L. chieftains, C.I.O. President Philip Murray announced that the vision had fled. Said Murray...
Crab Apple Jelly contains a dozen simple, tart tales of the men, women & children of Cork and Kerry. The townsmen - clerks, shopkeepers, shabby priests, students, girls who dream of America - live in a retired world of mahogany cabinets with glass fronts, gilt mirrors with cupids, sets of the History of the Popes, cheap alarm clocks on bedside tables. Snatches of whiskey, poteen or brandy turn them from sighs to smiles in the wink of an eye. Back of them are the old stone farms and grey walls of their childhood-homes huddled away on islands in the middle of lakes...