On his 64th birthday last week, Harry Truman's weight was a perfect 174, his blood pressure normal, his metabolism good. His hair was greying, his face showed the years; but his physician, Brigadier General Wallace Graham, pronounced him as fit as ever.

In his office at the usual 8:20 a.m., the President was given a fat manila folder full of birthday greetings from around the world, with a hefty sheaf from Kansas City and Missouri. On his desk was a white-iced angel-food cake. Among his birthday presents: 64 red roses, a new gold World War I service button, a fancy rifle,...

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