Word: chatteringly
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Gloria Vanderbilt di Cicco, often good for a column but never before a columnist, wrote a page of chatter for the New York Journal-American's syndicated magazine Home. Sample: the day after he first met his wife (Actress Carol Marcus), William Saroyan wrote her a poem called Snow. It began: "You are out of the snow of the past-the most beautiful thing in all the snow-the most delicate-the most alone...
Lucius Beebe, Manhattan exquisite who writes rococo chatter for the New York Herald Tribune, was much miffed by the wartime atmosphere. Wrote he: "... Pretentious folk are busy with cosmic urges which only tomorrow will be remembered as humorous follies and bumbling with skirmishes with destiny which next week will be recalled as yesterday's hysterical giggles." He predicted that Edward Ringwood Hewitt's savory volume of reminiscences, Those Were The Days (TIME, Dec. 27) "will be read and remembered when the apologies of current admirals and the postured stompings and poutings and cries...
...first-rate script that caught the U.S. idiom ("Boy, I never knew anything could be so cold. It must be about a thousand below"), the feel of the country ("Spring . . . the air's full of the sound of running water, the gurgle of streams and the chatter of rivers below the ice"), and the temper of the men who built it ("Eight miles a day-and only a thousand miles...
Beck does not talk prices. Instead he writes a chatter column, fictionalizing the personalities of the shopkeepers. ("The Grist Mill ... the darnedest bust you ever heard of ... is operated by a sad-eyed, spanielesque woman named Cora.") Sample treatment : "The trouble is that whenever we advertise something-demmit, people come in and buy it. And then we're out of that too. So today we have scoured the Farmers Market in search of something that nobody could ever have any use for ... and B-ruther-r-r we have found it. Eureka! . . . down at Manny Vezie's Gallery...
...point the road was clogged with one solid chain of British armor," Lang reports. "The tanks were halted because some bitter fighting was still going on near the intersection ahead, and we could ear the chilling chatter of machine guns, cautioning us that Tunis was not yet won. We bypassed the tanks and bumped onward over the roadside trolley line, passing villas licking flames into...