Word: staidness
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Socialist's Beginning. Clement Richard Attlee was born (1883) into a staid, middle-class family in Putney, a staid, middle-class suburb in the southwest section of London. He was tutored at home until he was nine years old-first by his mother, and later by a governess, a Miss Hutchinson, one of whose earlier pupils she remembered as a "strongwilled child" named Winston Churchill. Attlee went off to boarding school at nine, and he has described his subsequent years in terms remarkably like Churchill's account of his own school days. Wrote Attlee...
...over the capital last week people danced to the mountain music. Staid Nacional Radio slipped a few bambucos in among its classics; smaller stations broadcast them at all hours. White-tied guitarists strummed the beat at the upper-class Embajador restaurant. Street minstrels twanged the bambuco on their four-stringed tiples (Indian guitars). El Espectador, surveying the popular tunes of 1949, noted that three bambucos topped the list. "Why not?" asked a bogotano. ''After all, it's our own music, and it's good...
Philadelphia's staid old Girard Trust Co. livened up its 112th annual report last year with Helen Hokinson cartoons gently kidding the customers (TIME, Jan. 31). With this sprightly innovation, Girard Trust won the 1949 "Oscar of Industry" award for the best financial report of any U.S. financial institution, and gained readers as far away as South Africa. This week, in its 113th annual report, Girard Trust turned the tables on itself. It ran cartoons by The New Yorker's Perry Barlow kidding its own officers, particularly vice presidents, topped things off with a guffaw at the hidebound...
Promptly at 9 o'clock, "Mike" Johnson, 45, winner of a Pulitzer Prize for his investigation of waterfront crime (TIME, May 16), walked into the office of courtly, white-haired Executive Editor Keats* Speed, 70, editorial boss for 33 years of the staid, arch-conservative Sun. Said Speed in anguished accents: "I am taking you into my confidence because I have a nasty job to do. You must not breathe a word of this. We are being sold today, and I am an absolute wreck." Speed ordered stunned Reporter Johnson to lock himself in the musty...
...oddest devotions to the good time occurred during one of Freddie's lavish Prohibition-era parties. It was a Christmas dinner at Boston's staid Locke-Ober's. The company was high, the food and wines were perfect. Outside the snow fell. But there was one feature missing. Freddie hired a shivering newsboy to press his nose against the window and watch "as we attacked the groaning board...