Word: washbasins
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Then Lyndon turned to the next phase of political life: getting elected. One day, in 1937, while visiting an uncle in Houston, Lyndon was standing at the bathroom door, chatting while his uncle shaved. Spread across the washbasin was a Houston newspaper, with headlines announcing the death of Representative James P. Buchanan of Johnson's district. Said his uncle: "You can succeed Buchanan...
...Yours) of the two-a-day vaudeville era. But The Stooge is at its best when it ditches its plot and gives toothy Comic Lewis a chance at his uninhibited mugging, e.g., bashfully kissing a girl for the first time, getting impossibly drunk, wrestling with a fold-up washbasin in a railroad sleeping...
...attorney giving Sylvie control of all her affairs. One day little Denise came home from school to find her aunt's door tightly locked. "Your Aunt Jeanne was picked up by the cops again," explained Sylvie sadly. That night Denise went down to the cellar to get a washbasin. In the dim light she stepped on something soft. Sylvie said: "You must have stepped on an old pillow I threw down there." To a girl friend, Denise confided with horror that she had "dreamed" of a woman's foot growing out of the cellar floor...
McCarthy sat in his Senate office wearing an air of conspiratorial secrecy. He tapped a pencil on his desk and kept the tap water running in the washbasin to foil, said he, any hidden microphones. McCarthy confided the name of the "Russian agent" to only the committee, and to a few newspapermen. Soon, every cab driver and casual Washington visitor knew that McCarthy's "top Russian agent" was Owen J. Lattimore, director of Johns Hopkins' School of International Relations...
...Western visitor finds relief in leaving Belgrade. The Ori ent Express, which had come from Stamboul and Sofia, crawled across the snowy Voivodina plain. In my first-class wagon-lit compartment, the washbasin was dirty. There was neither soap nor towel. The bed pillows were grubby. The Serbian Pullman attendant grabbed my passport and exit permit and as good as told me that was all he had to do - from there on it was a mat ter of indifference to him whether I starved, sang or jumped out of the window. In fact, I munched salami between gross layers...