THE PRESIDENCY: spring and Something Else

Last week, before the President returned from fishing, spring—and something else more ominous than spring—were waiting for him at the White House.

Spring came with all the familiar sights and sounds of peaceful generations. The ten acres of White House lawn turned green overnight; gaspowered, rubber-tired lawn mowers began to whir over the sward's long roll, barbering the Kentucky bluegrass to the regulation two inches. A man painted the tennis-court backstop; other men with shears trimmed the California privet hedges in pyramid style.

Tiny green feathers delicately blurred the heavy black-purple branches...

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