Word: bricking
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...white-haired, round, short, blue-eyed, the Cap is having the time of his life putting Salida on the map. Grateful to Salida, he has spurned offers to go elsewhere. On the walls of his office (a little red-brick cottage) hang two pictures of the $3,000,000 Foshay Tower. He still keeps the motto which used to hang over his desk when he was a Northwestern reigning utilitycoon: Why worry? It won't last. Nothing does...
...spectacle. The prelude, in which the camera follows a long caravan across the mountains into the dirty, becrusted little town of Tucson, is filled with all the miscellany which Hollywood attaches to a scene to make it Big. The Tucson of 1860 is painstakingly reproduced to the smallest adobe-brick hut; the streets are crawling with extras, packed with props. Before the end there appear at one time or another 600 head of Hereford cattle, 485 horses, 1,200 ("thousands of") extras, 150 rippling, bare-skinned Papago Indians...
...decade ago the Faculty Club bequeathed Warren House to English A and moved into an attractive red-brick building next door. The mothbitten stuffed caribou head, which has trailed the professors since they first met in the chapel of University Hall, was installed over the mantel. And the traditional stodginess (which once caused a History 1 section man to propose "Slow, slow, inconceivably slow" as the club's motto) was also transferred to the new quarters. Younger instructors, therefore, still found the Square cafeterias more reasonable and the undergraduate Houses more congenial. Few of them sought membership; and the large...
...president and Boston's most eligible bachelor. She handed over her five-story house with no strings. Director Plaut would have liked to raise $25,000 to remodel it, but the war held him down. He settled for $4,000, contributed by Institute members, painted the red brick front grey, the front door bright blue, the interior pale blue. He lighted it by fluorescent indirect lamps...
...invasion bogey-man was sold us last spring and summer. Despite the dissenting voices of such competent military observers as Hanson Baldwin, it was palmed off on us by a slick bunch of gold-brick artists with President Roosevelt as sales manager. Yet common sense tells us that if England can hold off invasion, we, who are three thousand miles further away and three times as big, are in no terrible danger. The surrender of the British fleet is a very remote possibility. Nevertheless, millions of Americans have swallowed the yarn of invasion, while its originators talk cynically of "defense...