Word: caped
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Somewhere between Cape Cod and Cape Hatteras 17-year-old Richard W. Heurtley, Jr., erstwhile member of the Class of 1940, is padding his own canoe in a desperate attempt to reach Florida...
...their triple intention of being readable, authoritative and practical, the guides sometimes fall between two stools, sometimes overelaborate local wonders, sometimes tantalizingly skim the surface of some item of unfamiliar history. From the browsing reader's point of view, boldest and best of the books is the anecdotal Cape Cod Pilot, which includes a vivid account of the sinking of the submarine 8-4 off Provincetown, manages to treat old and new Cape Cod with the same good-natured detachment. Almost every book shows flashes of inspired writing. Even the pedestrian Lincoln City Guide of Lincoln, Neb. brightens...
...accustomed to laugh out loud at the work of aged Artist Waugh: 1) because it is limited almost entirely to realistic paintings of surf, and 2) because his surf pictures are "all alike." Although Artist Waugh paints the sea as it looks from not greatly dissimilar rocks near his Cape Cod home, sympathetic critics find his paintings no more nor less alike than the inexhaustible aspects of ocean water. In eschewing all human subjects for the sea, F. J. Waugh is actually akin to abstractionists like Georges Braque, winner of the Carnegie first prize this year (TIME, Oct. 25). Many...
Another woman pointed out to enthusiasts the desirability of a 30-hour week. "Why not?" she said. "If there is anything you want the union will give it to you." Advantages gained by membership in the group may well provide opportunities for a trip to the Cape, "or perhaps to England or Ireland where your ancestors came from...
...other personal respects M. Debussy was equally Bohemian. A short-legged, thick-set man, seldom in funds, he was forever wandering indolently into Left Bank and Montmartre cafes. There he would sit in a cape and large felt hat, ordering rarebits and English ale, rolling his own cigarets. He preferred the circus to the opera, and disliked listening to music, though he accepted several jobs writing music criticism for Paris publications. He finally succumbed to cancer of the rectum one spring when Big Bertha was dropping shells into Paris...