Word: wot
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Though record and sheet-music sales were still climbing, other complaints were being raised in Britain about Puddy-Tat last week. Mocked a columnist in "London's News Chronicle: "Dis is wot de gwown-ups sing, diddums." Disc Jockey Costa had received several mildly abusive letters from anti-puddy-tatters. Sample: "Take a firm grip on your puddy-tat record, face the exit, then bend down with your back to the record that gives you the greatest kick." Asked if he felt any guilt for his part in launching Britain on its current baby-talk rage, Costa looked hurt...
...nationalization of their industry (TIME, Aug. 29), Britain's leading sugar refiners, Tate & Lyle, were helped by a champion as ubiquitous and eloquent as Colonel Blimp ("Gad, sir, the Americans should be forced to pay us the money we owe them!") or long-nosed, war-born Mr. Chad ("Wot, no bacon & eggs?"). The free-enterprise champion was Mr. Cube, a personable lump of sugar invented by a 30-year-old ex-newspaperman and psychological warfare expert named Roy Hudson. On millions of sugar cartons, thousands of posters, pamphlets and ration-book covers, Mr. Cube's expressive face...
...with tears in his eyes as fathers carrying children in their arms marched behind mine-union banners. As he saw the banner of his own Hetton-le-hole Lodge go by he said: "Those youngsters are born Socialist. The blood on the coal's the same as wot's in their veins. I couldna bin two year old when me dad first carried me on 'is shoulder behind that banner. 'E wor unemployed then and for years aft.gr...
...them popped out his National Health Service Acts false teeth, held them aloft triumphantly, cried gummily: "I'd never have had a tooth in me head if your fathers and my fathers hadn't stuck tergeth-er in the past for their rights. Solidarity, that's wot did it, and it'll do it again...
...lmen, and there's nothink like a good hot blaze to make 'em come down vith a run . . . vereas smoke ain't o' no use at all in makin' a boy come down, for it only sinds him to sleep, and that's wot he likes . . . It's humane too, gen'lmen, acause, even if they've stuck in the chimbley, roasting their feet makes 'em struggle to hextricate theirselves...