Word: boys
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Henry Krumb, a Brooklyn boy who studied at Columbia University's School of Mines, ran short of money in his senior year, 1898. If the school had not paid his tuition with a $200 scholarship, Krumb wrote later, "I would not have been a mining engineer." As things turned out, Columbia had good reason to congratulate itself on its openhandedness. Henry Krumb grew rich as an internationally famed mining consultant, and in particular as an authority on low-grade copper ore. He sought to repay his debt in many ways, served as a trustee from 1941-47, and gave...
...Armadillos," wrote Tommy Kral the other day, "are very old mammals. They have an armorlike covering formed by ossification of the greater part of the skin and of the union of bony scutes." Tommy is a 7½-year-old boy who lives on a farm near Hastings, Minn. He wrote his treatise, which he assembled from reference books, in legible longhand and in ink. The exercise was part of his schoolwork, but such assignments are hardly the usual fare for Minnesota second-graders. Neither are some of the topics the bright, assertive boy tackles with no apparent harm-parts...
...Lakeland-Afton public elementary school-where he got instruction in such matters as "language arts and social studies, whatever that means," Mary Krai recalls with scorn-his parents refused to send him back. Instead, they set up a stiff, 5½-day-a-week curriculum for the boy, taught all the courses themselves except German. They are well enough qualified to do so; they are college graduates, and Mary Krai has held teaching certificates from Nebraska and Colorado. Her 35-year-old husband was trained as a chemist, now heads the Minneapolis Mining & Manufacturing Co.'s applied mathematics & statistics...
Having acted the angry descendant of slaves, the chained workman, the devout penitent, the impish lover, Belafonte always returns to being the small boy, performing a shuffling dance between verses, a sort of dark-skinned Huck Finn. At least once during each show he slouches comfortably about the floor directing irrelevant patter at waiters, musicians and ringside patrons ("Don't pay, comrades! Let's make a rush for the door!"). He often finishes by kidding his audience into joining him in a few choruses of Matilda: "Big Spenders be still! Now the intellectuals! EVERYBODY...
Several years ago, he became fascinated by the blind street singers of Chicago, particularly one Sonny Boy Williams, some of whose songs he intends to record without changes. In an evangelist church, Belafonte heard a preacher singing, "I'm a soldier of the Lord!" He took the "traditional answer and call" of the song, grafted them on to the lyrics of a Civil War song, Oh! Freedom, and is presenting the results in an album called My Lord, What a Morning. He has recorded rum drinkers in Haiti, "things I heard with Memphis Slim and Lead Belly," a railroad...