Word: kitchened
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...spread the bills on the kitchen table to gloat over them. Then he went to get a drink. His six-year-old son, a neat child, found the dirty scraps of paper littering the table. He swept them together, clutched them up, pushed them into the fireplace. The flames spouted and little black cinders of money blew up the chimney throat. When Ion Gerghuta came back and saw what his son had done he killed him, swiftly. In another room Ion's wife was bathing her year-old baby. She heard her son scream and ran to him. When...
...When his Bolivian Planter Cortes, newly rich, buys up the old estate of Fontecreuse in Touraine (southern France ?the Contes Drolatiques country), he installs an elevator, removes a Gobelin tapestry which interferes with the acoustics of his Negro saxophonist, and engages a Russian Count to preside over his kitchen. The Count is Molinoff, a person of glamor. Molinoff forgets he is cook, remembers only he is count. He spends a few stolen hours every day with Anne and Françoise, young daughters of a neighboring poor-but-proud royalist family. Françoise, unlike Anne, has no bent for politics...
...back to her native village, puts the other also in her place, all because of a cool-eyed modern who is neither wife nor smalltown. Crystal Nelson, first assistant to Cooper, the Big Boss, hears that Mr. Greeley's rapid rise in the N. K. U. (National Kitchen Utensils) is due to young Mrs. Greeley's influence with the boss. She traces the gossip to Aurelia, young Mrs. Greeley's confidante. Deftly Miss Nelson demotes Aurelia's husband to an out-of-town office, adroitly she arranges dinner for the Greeleys at Mr. Cooper...
...quarters. When Vice President Charles Curtis established himself, his official-hostess sister, Mrs. Edward Everett Gann, and Mr. Gann, at the fashionable Mayflower Hotel, Washington busybodies eyed the apartment (foyer, double-sized drawing room, dining room for 26 guests, smoking room, library, four bedrooms, two servants' rooms, kitchen, furnished at a cost of $75,000), ascertained its normal rental ($22,500 per year), and hastily concluded that Mr. Curtis was a free guest at the hotel for advertising purposes. A story to that effect went the rounds...
...from the pen of Bernard DeVoto, a slightly shopworn bargain from the Saturday Evening Post's lit'ry rummmage sale. It treats of the joys, boons and usifruots of life in the army in war time and paints in glowing terms the aesthetic delights of compulsory prophylaxis and kitchen police and association with the drug store yahoos and greengrocers who comprise our drafted armies. It's harmless and inocuous reading if you like it, but to us represents pretty sad entertainment...