"The taxpayers," observed Harry Truman with a grin last week, "are working me too hard."

Boarding the gleaming white presidential yacht Williamsburg, the nation's No. 1 hired man took a leisurely overnight cruise down the Potomac to Quantico, Va., with the ship hardly moving faster than the current, which suited the poker players in the presidential quarters fine. "I could have walked down faster," groused a Secret Sendee man.

Down the Barrel. At Quantico, the President—whose visit to the Marines was long overdue—saw a thunderous show. From a canvas-covered grandstand, he watched marines storm objectives with tanks, flame throwers, bazookas, phosphorous...

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