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Good Reason. If no bird was the clear winner at the end of some 20 minutes, the pair was taken back to a "drag pit" behind the main arena and set to scrapping again. In one fight a cock belonging to Kentucky's Best and Kelly stable refused to quit, although it was repeatedly "shot gunned" (slashed in the head by both its opponent's spurs). At one point, the handler of the losing bird put half of its bloody head in his mouth to warm its damaged brain, blew on its body to keep a wound from...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Sport: Squawks & Feathers | 1/27/1961 | See Source »

...future--if there is a future--Mr. Hammarskjold will be called a great man. Historians will recall that he was decisive in shaping the United Nations into something more than an arena for propaganda cock fights at a time when something more was desperately needed. They will say that he strengthened the only positive deterrent to war in a world where the peace was a consensus of terror...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Mr. Secretary-General | 10/6/1960 | See Source »

...ancient tapestry-weaving center of Aubusson, 235 miles south of Paris, the local weavers turned for new designs to a small group of former Paris artists turned Resistance fighters who were hiding in the town. Under the Nazis' noses, Lurçat wove a great crowing cock standing on a blazing ball of sun, which was his way of portraying the inevitable triumph of liberty. That tapestry marked the beginning of Aubusson's phenomenal postwar renaissance, and Lurçat became its guiding spirit...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Art: Renaissance in Wool | 7/11/1960 | See Source »

They can't. There is no Running Donkey at Paddington. There is a Running Horse: it shuts at ii p.m. There are two pubs called The Cock at Euston, but neither is open before 11:30 a.m. As for The Eagle, South-wark-it shuts just when you say it opens...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Letters, Apr. 11, 1960 | 4/11/1960 | See Source »

...rambling home at 12 Leicester Square. In the fetid basement of his country villa, a vast copper cauldron was kept at the boil; there he melted down human and animal corpses to get fresh skeletons for his grisly pathological museum of pickled fetuses, stuffed one-eyed pigs and cock-plumed hens. There may have been, as his contemporaries thought, more madness than method in his research, but dour John Hunter (1728-93) as much as any man helped turn surgery and pathology into sciences...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Pioneer Pathologist | 3/28/1960 | See Source »

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