I made a talk on television, a talk in which I made a flub—one of the few that I make, not because I′m so good on television but because I′ve been doing it a long time. I made a flub in which I said I was running for governor of the United States.
Standing expectantly on this porch were two fashionably dressed little tots of girls — cut very much on the same pattern, like paper dolls — and a sunbonneted, gingham-clad young woman whose rounded arm lightly held a heavy but spick and span baby, a regular prize winner for plumpness and fairness, a baby of such well-poised deportment that every noddle was kingly.
During the acute national potato shortage, the lowly spud was missed so much that it began to rank with truffles and goose livers as a delicacy. This restaurant in New Hampshire obtained a bag of potatoes after several spudless weeks […]
This new batch was sent to Leicester shed, and the redoubtable enginemen who had made such a reputation for themselves with the ex-G.C.R. Atlantics took to the B17s immediately, although, of course, they required quite different driving methods; ….
