Word: clumpingly
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...story tower surrounded by 3-story buildings that curve gracefully around old trees, lawns and playgrounds. Plumley thought it essential that the Federal Housing Administration certify the project for rental assistance to low-income tenants. The FHA, however, was nonplused by his insistence on building something other than a clump of high-rise boxes. First, the FHA objected that site costs were too low. The Worcester Redevelopment Authority proposed to sell 17 acres of land to State Mutual for $43,000, but FHA rules called for a minimum of $500 per dwelling unit, or $215,000. State Mutual managed...
...Great Interrupter, the Village Explainer, the champion of Mental Jotto, the Free Analyst, Mr. Let's Find Out, leads the troops on 2 seventy-two-hour forced march through the lateral geniculate and the pyramids of Betz, no breathers allowed, until every human brain is reduced finally to a clump of dried seaweed inside a burnt-out husk and collapses, implodes, in one last crunch of terminal boredom. Mr. Pull! Mr. Push! Mr. Auricularis! . . . But how could the Black Panther Party of America know that...
...wind was blowing steadily from the northwest at 25 m. p. h. with gusts of 35 m. p. h. Harvard coach John Yovicsin tested the wind just before game time by throwing a clump of grass into the air. After swirling around his head seven times, the grass blew up into the colonnade...
...target today is a suspected enemy location near the gully behind that clump of trees," says the American Forward Air Controller (FAC) from a tiny spotter plane just above the treetops some 30 miles northwest of Saigon. On the receiving end of the message is a South Vietnamese pilot, Captain Hoang Manh Dzung, 28, who is flying a propeller-driven A-l Skyraider with a 4,000-lb. bomb load. Suddenly, standing the plane on its nose, Captain Dzung swoops down, releases a 500-lb. bomb and pulls adroitly out of the dive. After several more runs, the FAC radios...
Last week, in what was nothing less than a calculated act of vengeance, Arab guerrillas slipped over the Lebanese border into Israel near a village called Baram. Judging from the tracks they left, there appeared to be eight of them. Hiding in a clump of bushes beside a road 500 yards from the border, the guerrillas allowed a military patrol to pass. Then came a target more to their taste−a bright yellow school bus on its customary morning run, packed with five-to-eight-year-olds from a moshav, or cooperative farm, called Avivim. When the bus slowed...