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Word: crocking (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...novel is dedicated to a river (New Zealand's Whanganui), that among the chief characters are 13 darling children, most of them under one tin roof, and that various Maori gods and spirits are freely invoked, may suspect that he is being conjured into accepting a crock of anthropological whimsy. Not so; the magic here is real...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Books: Genuine Magic | 3/11/1966 | See Source »

...even with a more responsive audience, problems will remain. George Rosen is always droll as Finian, a dotty old Irishman who has stolen a crock of leprechaun gold and buried it near Fort Knox, an area he believes conducive to spontaneous generations. Carolyn Firth, his ready, nubile, and willing daughter, is a pretty girl and a charming actress. But neither of them seems quite at home in a brogue; Rosen at times simply deserts Belfast for Brooklyn. And Miss Firth, for all the attractiveness of her voice, shares with many of the other singers a tendency toward inaudibility...

Author: By Martin S. Levine, | Title: Finian's Rainbow | 3/4/1966 | See Source »

This off-Broadway production contains a royal crock of a grandmother, acted with curmudgeonly perfection by Ethel Griffies. Miss Griffies will be 87 next month. She seems considerably younger than the play...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Theater: Must There Always Be A Red Brick England? | 3/26/1965 | See Source »

...dear old dog, as connoisseurs of screen comedy will quickly surmise, is Britain's Margaret Rutherford (TIME, May 24), a 71-year-old crock of charm who, pound for pound, is possibly the funniest woman alive. In Gallop, the film version of an Agatha Christie thriller called After the Funeral, Actress Rutherford once more portrays Miss Jane Marple, a dotty old dame with a weakness for cookies and a nose for blood...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Cinema: Rutherford Rides Again | 7/5/1963 | See Source »

...prosperous Vancouver Island logging operator, Seymour was never able to forget the buried rum. Last summer he impulsively flew to Europe, found the hedge just where he remembered it. It took half an hour's digging to unbury the crocks intact. Elated, Seymour headed for London, searched out old army buddies who polished off one of the two-gallon crocks. The other he took back to Canada, where Her Majesty's Canadian Customs Department heartlessly ruled that he was entitled to bring in one quart of liquor and not a nostalgic swig more. Seymour got himself licensed...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: CANADA: Rum Doings | 4/18/1960 | See Source »

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