He really was a cranky old bastard.
Does posterity get any record of what service, exactly, this brave champion of the people was expecting the boy scouts to effusively praise him for? Being upset with vagueness suggests that he might have had something specific in mind.
They knit him some lacy undergarments that went well with his favorite bonnet.
/ that dress, what was he thinking?
An old gossip, both vicious and garrulous?
How richly queer!
Do stay away from my sons, mister Hoover!
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