Word: brightly
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...antarctic whalers were nosing up the fjords to Oslo; Norwegian fishermen were pushing out in their eight-oared boats after mackerel; hay was springing up in the valleys that lie in bright green patches between the mountains. This week in Sweden the ten-day fair opened in Goteborg; the Swedish Parliament celebrated its 504th anniversary; preparations were under way for midsummer eve on June 23, when there is no night in Sweden and the people dance around the maypoles. In England last week 500,000 people saw Blue Peter win the Derby; cars were leaving London at the rate...
...Prima lays siege to the eardrums; Jack White's 18 Club, which goes in for bughouse antics, wisecracks, catcalls, pranks and late hours; The Hickory House, where the "cats" do some of their best caterwauling, put on special Sunday matinees. Chief Greenwich Village branch for swing is the bright-basemented bohemian Cafe Society, "the right place for the wrong people...
...everything was bright and sunny, of course. After the first four or five "frame-ups" and "sell-outs", the effect of the play's message began to wear off, simply because Mr. Blitzstein had cried "wolf" too often. The music was occasionally too loud, and the articulation not always clear. But these were only minor defects in a well-molded whole for which Directors Bernstein and Szathmary deserve considerable credit Miss. Mann's singing of "Nickel under the Foot" was delightful, the acting of Donald Davidson and Kendall Smith quite professional. By and large "The Cradle Will Rock...
...Rome of a bright spring morning. A vast, good-humored mob filled St. Peter's Square, craned necks toward the Arch of Bells. Suddenly the cheers exploded. Through the Arch of Bells into the square came Pope Pius XII, in gold-embroidered cape, followed by a brilliantly robed procession. The Pope climbed into a glistening, open-topped convertible sedan. Into nine other limousines clambered his retinue. By a devious four-mile route across Rome, past kneeling and cheering thousands, past the packed stands in the Via dell' Impero, the Pope's motorcade wound its slow...
Jean Giono, 44, is a burly, self-educated French-Italian hillbilly, whom critics have called "one of the giants of modern French letters." He lives in a remote mountain village of the Basses-Alpes, writes unusual novels about hamhanded, muscularly poetic peasants against bright-colored, heroic landscapes. He eschews the literary world, refuses to visit Paris,* and has become almost a legendary figure in France. Two years ago U. S. readers were introduced to Giono with The Song of the World, agreed that Giono packs a powerful pastoral punch...