Presidential press conferences are usually a bore. What happens is that a group of 100 or more reporters gather in the White House press room, stand around chatting with each other until thoroughly exhausted. Thus reduced to a state of total psychic subservience, they are ushered into Franklin Roosevelt's private sanctum. Here the President, comfortably tucked in under a massive desk and surrounded by a background of secretaries and Secret Service men, sits flourishing his cigaret holder. The correspondents gather closely around the front of the desk trying politely to look as though...

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