Icinged

Bought icinged rum ring treat.

Their wives take time out each afternoon from keeping house in a pink-icinged bungalow in Fort Lauderdale to drive the baby to the beach and stretch out blissfully on the shining hot sand.

Mrs. Philip Axe pushes an icinged finger into the mouth of one of her quadruplet daughters during the girls’ first birthday party at St. Rita’s Hospital in Lima, Ohio, yesterday.

But they can sparkle with an engaging warmth and the bulldog set of his jaw breaks in a boyish grin when asked about his youth . . . he hunched closer to blow at an icinged crumb, —ful, youthful surroundings and the influences that shaped his formula for successful marketing bluntly expressed in a recent interview as, simply, what works.

Nobody’s skin is going to turn brown on these eggs—or on cinnamon-apple-flavored Instant Quaker Oatmeal, or Tang, or Swiss Miss, or on cold pink-icinged Pop-Tarts with raspberry filling.

The rum cake is an icinged, booze-soaked, layered affair of white cake and chocolate mousse.

To balance out the menu, tortes and cobblers replaced sticky-icinged cake, and Kool-Aid and root beer and Pilsner were supplanted by Veuve Clicquot and frozen gin served in silver-plated flasks for that authentic out-in-the-woods feeling I so fondly remember.