Word: aspenization
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...Heywood Broun and Alexander Woollcott, who lunched together daily at the Algonquin Hotel. With them at the green baize table were two characters who did not fit into the regular membership. One was a nervous, profane, broom-thatched wild man from the West named Harold Ross. Born in Aspen, Colo., he had been a waterfront reporter in San Francisco, a picture-snatching newshawk in Atlanta, boss of a Negro gang in Panama and, most important, editor of the A. E. F.'s Stars & Stripes. The other was a suave, good-humored millionaire named Raoul Fleischmann, who at that time...
...find only a torn leg in his trap. Sensitive trappers, if they can afford it, use the Bailey live beaver trap, a hinged, circular device which lies flat, snaps closed when a beaver touches its trigger (see cut, p. 32). Best bait is a fresh aspen limb fastened just behind the trap. Beavers live chiefly on bark, twigs, the roots of water plants...
Ever since the time he thought he saw God peeping over the top of an aspen tree Card lived in expectation of something wonderful happening to him. He did not know what it would be but he was sure it would happen in New Mexico, because that was the country he lived in and loved. Card had a fine time although there were few boys to play with and his family was not rich. His father was a "lunger," and ex-professor from the East; his mother a vestal virgin dedicated to keeping the home fires burning...
...must have been someone else....omigod....did we?....say it ain't so, Stogie, say it ain't so....omigod....right in the middle of the Somerset?....Morris dances?....charades?....did we really?....well this is absolutely the last time....where's the bromides?....I'm all of an aspen....the toots....the jitters....the screaming meemies....what do I seem to have on?....well this certainly adds the formal touch....white ties for breakfast....Beaunash please copy....why did we do it?....there really ought to be a law....oh, my head....who's this on the floor...
...church, an amateur chorus, a green Scarpia (Lawrence Tibbett), the lack of an organ and the sluggish conducting of Merola. . . . Any unforeseen gap she [Jeritza] would fill with her bloodcurdling shrieks or her hollow whispers; she raved, raced and ranted all over the scene, she trembled like a palsied aspen leaf; betimes she played the accomplished acrobat, and, of course, she sang most of the 'Viss d'Arte' lying face downward, as if praying to Proserpine through a crack in the floor...