Word: boye
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...swordplay, brawls on bridges and effective vignettes of a dark, cruel 16th century England, e.g., a weepy woman waiting in a cell to hang for stealing a yard of yarn; a bandaged old man who lost his ears for criticizing the Lord Chancellor; and the prince's whipping boy, hardly bigger than the Great Seal used by the pauper to crack nuts in the palace. But the play's most memorable image was its gentlest: a lovely little girl (Patty Duke, 8) finding the tattered prince-by then the king-asleep in a haystack. The prince identified himself...
Twentieth Century: Tersely titled FBI and scripted by bestselling Author Don (The FBI Story) Whitehead,* the latest edition of CBS's new documentary series bulged this week with mystery, mobsters and storied shots: closeups of Killer John Dillinger spreading his dimpled, farm-boy charm counterpoised with his hairy, half-covered corpse in the morgue; the sad-faced mourners at his funeral (where a photographer got slugged for being "disrespectful"); a Hollywood extortionist waiting on a street corner for money from Actress Betty Grable, getting caught by agents disguised as gardeners. There were absorbing glimpses of malefactors from George ("Machine...
Elias Murambodoro's father was frightened. What kind of son, he wondered, had he put into the world? The boy had begun to talk unusually early, and the father finally concluded that voodoo must be to blame. Throwing mother and child out of his hut, he disappeared into the bush...
According to Elias' mother, the boy was unusual in other ways. He was born with all his teeth, she claimed, a sure sign that he had come straight from Heaven. He was preaching the Gospel before he was a year old, and at five, she said, Elias could read the Bible upside down in several African languages. With her husband out of the way, Mother Murambodoro (who had often listened to Protestant missionaries) loudly proclaimed that Elias was Jesus reborn with a black skin, and many an African believed...
Nine months ago, in the township of Harere, on the outskirts of Salisbury, capital of the Central African Federation, little Elias first mounted the pulpit-a Pepsi-Cola crate. The six-year-old boy was handsome, dignified; he exuded authority and wore shoes. His mother, in a flowing white robe, stood behind him chanting softly and clasping her hands. About them gathered a crowd of naked children, zoot-suited men and women in gaily-colored print dresses. Little Elias threw back his head and closed his eyes. "Hear my word!" he cried in Shona, a native dialect. "It was your...