Word: zipped
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Harry Truman's personal zip was still there, but suddenly the political zing was gone. His bearing was jaunty and his socks and ties were still as carefully matched as ever. He could still snap a decision, find time for a handshake with an old friend, or smile cheerfully for photographers at the inescapable White House ceremonials. But the truth was that Harry Truman, for the first time in anybody's memory, was just plain bored...
...heard? Harry Truman lapsed into his famous mimicry of Radio Commentator H. V. Kaltenborn. For four years Truman has regaled his friends with his imitation of Kaltenborn's broadcast on election night, 1948, when Kaltenborn was stubbornly insisting that Tom Dewey was winning. Now the President's zip was undiminished as he mimicked the 1952 Kaltenborn hailing an Eisenhower victory. Only this time, said Harry Truman with a wry grin, the old boy turned out to be right...
Bankers from 48 states gathered in Atlantic City, N.J. last week to compare their pulse readings of the U.S. economy. Their conclusion: business is good, and should get still better in the next few months. The boom, which had shown signs of deflating, now has more zip than ever before. Recovering fast from the long steel strike, industrial output went up about 15% in the past two months. The Federal Reserve Board estimated that last month production equaled the peacetime high set in April...
Candidate Averell Harriman, who had been taking political instruction from his managers until 2 a.m., climbed out of bed at 7 o'clock one morning last week in his elegant Manhattan town house. He barely had time to zip through a shave and into a grey worsted suit before the doorbell rang. His first guests were ten representatives of the A.F.L. building and construction trades, and while Harriman walked them across the red dining-room carpet past the French panels, a flying wedge of television cameramen, newsmen and campaign assistants moved in too. They recorded the scene...
...offers a choice of skiing down to Jenaz, 18 miles away, or to the nearer villages of Saas, Serneus, Klosters or Wolfgang, each serviced by a whistle-stop railroad that hauls the skier right back to Davos. At Zermatt, in the shadow of the Matterhorn, a good skier can zip down to Italy for a spaghetti lunch and be back in Switzerland for dinner...