THE PRESIDENCY: Clean House, with Termites

Key West was a gloomy and unfamiliar place. Angry grey-green rollers thundered up against Truman Beach, thick black clouds scudded across the sky, and a misty rain dripped down the shutters of the Little White House. Harry Truman awoke, turned over, peered disgustedly out the window and went back to sleep for an extra half hour. It had been like that for days, and the President was getting a little bored with the endless rainy-day banter, and with life on the cold and clammy beach.

Fidgeting to get back in harness, he celebrated the first sunshiny day of the week...

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