Word: dusts
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...flue-scorching "twofer" stogies and forty-rod whisky (known as "red disturbance"), and there were real drinking men to lap it up, e.g., the miner in Bodie who, when he ran out of gold dust, slashed off his ear, slapped it on the bar and demanded credit. Manufacturers of bone combs were paying $1.25 for Indian skulls, and a white man's life was not worth much more...
...many an anxious Briton, the exploding events in distant Nyasaland seemed inexorably to be falling into the same old tragic pattern. "The Colonial Secretary," taunted Labor's Colonial Specialist Jim Callaghan, "can dust off all the phrases he used about Cyprus and bring them out again." Callaghan continued, his emotion showing: "In the end, we shall concede to force what we failed to concede to reason." But Colonial Secretary Alan Lennox-Boyd,* in an almost swaggering parliamentary performance, was confident that the news he had up his sleeve would be enough to shock the Opposition into silence...
...pies begins each picture with a cloudy idea, possibly just a word, such as "serpent" or "tree." In working, he may decide to paint only the skin of the serpent, or the texture of wood. This usually involves mixing marble dust or sand with his dark pigments: the result is like a shallow bas-relief with muted colors suggestive of the earth's own crust. Tàpies confesses to "struggling" with his materials, then intently observing the outcome: "I am the first spectator before my canvas. I am a normal man. If it touches me, it will touch...
...were hard to come by when Harry Belafonte left dramatic school in 1948. He took a job as a messenger and package wrapper in the garment district; nights he used to drop in at a Broadway jazz cellar known as the Royal Roost. He learned a few songs-Star Dust, Blue Moon, Pennies from Heaven-and landed a job. He made some recordings, even composed a quavering ballad titled Lean on Me ("You in your high ivory tower/ Drunk with the sense of your power/ I adore you/ Do I bore you? Come, come le-ean on me"). One night...
...Dust was thick on the Kenya plains as touring Queen Mother Elizabeth beamed down at Narok on rows of proud, bellicose Masai warriors, resplendent in lion-skin headdresses. Touching briefly on a local morale problem, Her Majesty expressed the hope that rain would soon fall in Kenya, which had suffered a four-month drought. Hardly had she finished speaking when the rains came-so heavy that roads turned to sludge, and the Queen's car barely made it to the airstrip for her flight to Mombasa. But the Masai, water cascading off their lion skins, trudged happily homewards, more...