Word: canyoneering
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...with a Chaplinesque background of pathos. He ably remodeled Powell from the vacuous crooner of Warner Brothers musicals into a convincing prototype of a drudge with a dream of sudden wealth with which he can buy his mother a convertible settee and his girl a fancy wedding. Pale-faced, canyon-mouthed Ellen Drew, a onetime Hollywood soda clerk, was coached into a realistic likeness of a sugary, $18-a-week stenographer. A good dramatist, Sturges kept his characters credible by the simple but neglected technique of letting them act like people. For instance, when the Maxford House president is writing...
...came to Hollywood, and I starved to death. I used to walk . . . from Hollywood down to Inceville, down in Santa Monica Canyon, where I played Indian for a dollar a day and lunch, when I got it. I grew a little bored with that because there was a man, who is now a rather popular director . . . and he was always the child in the Conestoga wagon. He was the only one who didn't get killed by the Indians, you see. And I used to rescue him about three times a week, and it bored...
...Boston last week the toastmaster of the 99th Annual Unitarian Festival Dinner rose to introduce an honored guest. "There are two things one should see on a trip West," he declared, "the Grand Canyon and Dr. Reinhardt." That was not the only compliment paid to Dr. Aurelia Henry Reinhardt in Boston last week. She was also elected Moderator at the General Conference of U. S. Unitarians, to succeed famed Penologist Sanford Bates. At 63, tall, big-boned, deep-voiced, Dr. Reinhardt thus became the first woman moderator of a large U. S. church...
Sandia Man's old home is a cave on the side of a canyon in New Mexico's rugged Sandia mountains. It was discovered in 1935, has since been cleared for more than 150 yards under the direction of Archeologist Frank Cummings Hibben of the nearby University of New Mexico. The floor, as found, was littered with droppings of rats and bats. Under that was a stalagmite formation made of limestone dissolved from the roof; under that a Folsom layer containing typical Folsom spearpoints, charcoal, bones of sloths and catlike carnivores not yet identified; under that a layer...
...street, a canyon between high office buildings, was suddenly filled with a flat sound like someone beating a rug. Piercing the racket was Coffman's shriek: "Corinne, don't kill me!" Corinne blazed away until the gun in her hand was empty, yanked another gun from under her coat, emptied that into the twitching, still screaming Coffman. When the racket stopped, Coffman lay still. Calmly, Corinne surrendered...