Word: padding
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Jackdaw No. I comes in an envelope the size of a legal pad. It has words: eight close-printed pages describing everything from Nelson's birth in a Norfolk parsonage to his burial in St. Paul's. And to go with the words are eleven graphic exhibits-a map, a battle plan, paintings and a detailed cutaway drawing of Nelson's flagship Victory, plus facsimiles of a crucial Nelson memorandum of the London Times of Nov. 7, 1805, and of ten signal flags by which Nelson told his fleet in code, ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY...
Trouble Next Door. Some amelioration can be obtained by putting a pad of sound-deadening material under the radio or hi-fi set. "We recommend a waffle padding with a foam rubber back about two inches thick," says Austin Granat, technical consultant for Fisher Radio Corp. But few set owners bother to do anything about it unless the neighbors complain...
...grey helicopter, its red lights blinking, swung past the floodlit Washington Monument, came down onto a steel landing pad on the south lawn of the White House, some 70 feet from Caroline and John Kennedy's treehouse, swing and jungle-gym set. Johnson walked through the flower garden into the oval presidential office. There secretaries had cleared Jack Kennedy's desk of personal mementos: a coconut shell on which he had carved a message of his survival after his PT boat sank in World War II, a silver calendar noting the dates of his confrontation with Nikita Khrushchev...
...Terence Rattigan. Last season Charles Boyer starred in Lord Pengo, a tracing-paper-thin characterization of Art Wheeler-Dealer Jo seph Duveen. Boyer was slyly fascinating; the play provoked yawns. In Man and Boy, Boyer plays Gregor Antonescu, a blurry blotting-pad version of the 20th century's master swindler, Ivar Kreuger. Boyer makes a charming cad; the play is a jaw-aching bore. If the evening proves anything, it is merely that actors who are graded 100 for talent sometimes get zero for judgment...
Trembling Rich. George Smith is the unlikely name of his daydream figure. Smith is such a man as Manhattan's subway millions have dreamed of being. With nothing but a pad and pencil in Room 604 of a building in Owl Street, somewhere downtown, he makes uncounted millions, and the market shudders at his whim. Like sable-jowled Novelist Donleavy himself, he is dark, saturnine, aloof from human contact. The rich tremble before him; only a few poor whom he selects to honor know his great heart. Contemptuous of woman when lured into sex he is more potent than...