Word: bowle
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...animals, only awesome, rugged country buried under deep snow, "a handful of hot springs" and the frozen Virginia Falls, 316 ft. high. After flying 15 miles through a canyon whose sheer walls rose to 1,500 feet, the plane landed on its skis in the valley itself, a great bowl set amid the mountains. There was no living thing in sight, not even the fearsome character who (the legend said) cut off the heads of explorers and prospectors. All Berton found in his quick peek were two crumbling cabins near by. In one was a faded pin-up picture...
...knew that Charley Trippi starred in the 1943 Rose Bowl game after Frankie Sinkwich was injured. He knew that Hughes succeeded Taft as Chief Justice. He recited from Byron's Maid of Athens, Burns's Tarn o'Shanter and Moore's The Time I've Lost in Wooing. He sang I Surrender, Dear and Dixie, until snippety Oscar Levant gasped: "From now on call me The Pretender." Neither Levant nor John Kieran nor Franklin P. Adams had a lookin. Everyone agreed that he was wonderful...
...brethren, whose breeding grounds must still exist upon the college and school level. Rather than set themselves up in some ivory academic tower, colleges have let the lure of lucre seep down among them, and have usually welcomed with open arms such money-making orgies as the fast-multiplying bowl games on New Year...
Later, little Willie sickened and died: "Yes, my darling, impossible as it seems, our precious little soldier boy has been taken away." Later still, to forestall Yankee marauders, "I took my silver sugar dish, cream pot, bowl, forks and spoons and put them into the legs of a pair of your drawers . . . tying up each leg at the ankle and buckling the band around my waist. They hung under, and were concealed by, my hoops. It did well while I sat still, but as I walked . . . the clanking destroyed all hope of concealment. ... I could not restrain my laughter, which...
...shuffled back & forth under a huge wooden banner of a hammer and sickle and book (the Italian Socialist emblem). Delegates, observers and guests, filling the unheated auditorium to capacity, shivered in their overcoats. Pietro Nenni sat snugly at the rear of the platform, carefully concealed from view by a bowl of bright red carnations...