Word: cheerlessly
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With investor confidence at its lowest ebb since Dwight Eisenhower's heart attack and Big Board stock prices falling $6 billion in one day's trading, Wall Street last week was a cheerless place for anyone trying to peddle large blocks of stock. So discouraging was the atmosphere that long-scheduled sales of stock in two eminently solid corporations (Kellogg Co. and McGraw-Hill Publishing) were abruptly postponed by the investment bankers underwriting them. But the Street's hard-eyed moneymen took a different view when 430,000 shares of General Motors Corp.* went on the block...
Wartime Climate. Yet for those refugees who do arrive, France is proving a cheerless asylum. A year ago. Jean Clement, 62, owned a 600-acre farm in Algeria. Today he is a grocer in Montpellier on the verge of bankruptcy. Complaining that his store is boycotted because he is a pied-noir (European of Algeria), Clement says angrily: "My father was killed at Verdun. I helped liberate France in 1944. I'm as good a Frenchman as anyone in Montpellier, but the animosity of the local population is terrible...
...poetry as it showed, with crystalline acuity, each gob of goo sinking into each coil of hair. There was the pathos of Willy Loman in a Metrecal pitch called the Lonely Man (commercials have titles these days), which showed a forlorn, overweight figure trudging through Central Park on a cheerless winter day while a narrator spoke of blubber in tones of quiet reasonableness...
...Rhodeses do not immediately know that. Their room is pleasant, though not quite as advertised-there is no hot water, and when Barbara complains, a maid appears at odd hours with lukewarm basins. The Rhodeses find the countryside charming, but the people seem unaccountably chilly. Mme. Vienot is brisk, cheerless and not above padding a bill. Her aged mother sits through most of dinner in a glazed reverie. A millionaire guest tells the Rhodeses how much he enjoyed eating "ut doaks" in the U.S. Barbara laughs irrepressibly when she realizes he is saying hot dogs, and the rich man turns...
Hanoi, long the brothel-studded "Paris of the Orient," is now grubby and cheerless, and the once glittering Street of Silk is deserted soon after sundown, reported TIME Correspondent James Wilde, one of the few Westerners to visit Hanoi in its six years of Red rule. Crowds flock to the "people's stores"-but only to stare enviously at shoddy goods priced way out of reach of the average worker's 40-dong monthly salary. (A bicycle, at 400 dong, is the ultimate symbol of status.) Loudspeakers call everybody to calisthenics three times a day. Dressed Chinese-style...