Word: clattering
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...hard-drinking guests, smiling and shaking hands like a ward boss. Once, captured by an excited female comrade, he let himself be whirled through a few dance steps to the accompaniment of shouts of "Molodets!" (bravo). Later, somewhere in the background, half-drowned out by laughter and the clatter of dinner plates, an orchestra burst into the strains of an old song...
Robert Frost intones flippantly in his latest attempt to still the clatter of the Machine Age and to put man in his proper place. Summer Slichter, not in the realm of morality, but certainly in the musty halls of tradition, takes a well-aimed iconoclastic swing at Keynesian economics. If his argument is not convincing to the conditioned minds of the New Deal, it represents a refreshing conservatism, too seldom well expounded...
...Winchell of File, white-haired and 60, was a tame version of the once combustible keyhole crier. Gone were the high-decibel-count croak and Morse-key jangle, the creaky song-and-dance routines of last year's variety show. Now there was only the occasional clatter of the typewriter-onscreen and off-and on TV even this was restrained enough to be realistic. Though File claims to be based on his "private files," Winchell admits there are fictitious strokes "to avoid any trouble legally." Did he always beat the cops to the scene when prowling around Manhattan? "Normally...
Before T (for test) time, all eyes look for the now familiar telltale signs: the radar search dish on the Cape begins rotating; crash boats put out to sea; the yellow warning spheres are hoisted atop the 90-ft. poles; the eight massive service towers and gantries clank and clatter. The tips of the missiles are often visible on the skyline. "Conducting tests on the Cape," said one missileman, "is like performing research in a fish bowl...
Back from the Dead. As June ended the snow receded, Steeves packed some strawberries and a couple of fish, finally made it over Granite Pass and came down into Granite Basin. One day last week one of the season's first camping parties heard the clatter of rock, looked up to see a heavily bearded, gaunt figure (he had lost about 30 lbs.) sitting on a rock munching strawberries. The campers shook their heads at his story, reckoned that he had walked about 100 miles, eased him on a horse to the nearest ranger station. From there he went...