Word: servants
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...heavenly Father, bless richly, we pray thee, thy son and servant who has been chosen by the sovereign people of this great nation to serve as their Chief Executive. Our Father, wilt thou endow him and all of us with a deep spirit of humility and devotion. We know that without thy divine help we cannot succeed...
Died. Sir Edward Marsh, 80, scholar bachelor, longtime (1896-1937) British civil servant, who became known as "Whitehall's perfect private secretary" for his service to Churchill, Asquith, Joseph Chamberlain and Malcolm MacDonald in London. Falling in with London's literary crowd, "Eddie" Marsh established reputation as conversationalist, first-nighter art collector, translator of the odes of Horace and the fables of La Fontaine, autobiographer (A Number of People) and editor (1912-21) of five volumes of Georgian Poetry. For his service to the -rown and to letters, he was knighted in 1937 by George...
Most Washington hostesses of proper vintage remember Mrs. Grace Coolidge as the woman who was most to be admired during the years after Mrs. T. R. Her quiet charm put all at ease - a considerable feat, since Silent Cal sometimes had a servant rub Vaseline into the presidential hair while he ate breakfast, once ordered a toupee painted on the Red Room portrait of bald John Adams, and often almost paralyzed guests with his wordlessness. The Herbert Hoovers spent a great deal of money on entertainment, but their era was one of work and worry. Eleanor Roosevelt had little interest...
Cool as Fuji. In another, more typical Akutagawa story, an unemployed servant is horrified to find an old hag yanking the hair from a dead fishwife to make a wig. "If she knew I had to do this in order to live, she probably wouldn't care." the hag explains. "Are you sure?" asks the servant mockingly. "Then it's right if I rob you. I'd starve if I didn't." And he strips off her clothes and kicks her roughly down among the decaying corpses...
Turret Smiles. It is no longer surprising for anyone in Malaya to see Sir Gerald and Lady Templer rolling down the road with their smiling heads sticking up out of an armored car's turret. No soldier, policeman, home guardsman or public servant knew when Templer might appear, demanding accurate answers to sarcastic questions. In his air-conditioned office in King's House, he-plotted daring innovations in guerrilla warfare: planes which fly over the jungle broadcasting recorded messages from captured guerrillas; a plant poison spray to clear the roadsides of ambush areas...