Word: featherers
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...August when the corn and melon vines begin to wither, the Hopi whisper that "the little ones" are angry. Then one day the medicine men set a date for the rain-bringing ritual. On the door of the main kiva (underground chamber) a priest posts a nacti (two eagle feathers tied to a stick) and for nine days thereafter the kiva is a hallowed place which none may enter but themselves. Across the broad mesa go "gatherers" in search of snakes. Scores of serpents are caught, imprisoned in the kiva. The priests dip them into jars of a sacred liquid...
...white-haired dame with the patrician profile and shallow-crowned velvet hat "with feather fantasy caught under the nice brim ... for the 40's or 50's or 60's" was unmistakably Mrs. Edna Woolman Chase, gracious, able editrix-in-chief of the three Vogues published in Manhattan, London, Paris. The drowsy blonde in the broadcloth beret (for ladies "this side of thirty") at the opposite side of the group was surely Nancy Hale Hardin, author of The Young Die Good, staff member of Vogue for four years. At Mrs. Chase's left, representing "the stretch...
Taught & stimulated by Professor de Schweinitz at the University of Pennsylvania, Professor William Holland Wilmer at Johns Hopkins, Professor John Martin Wheeler of Columbia, and their compeers. U. S. eye surgeons have developed a marvelously precise technique. Their scalpels are slim. Their scissors resemble manicuring scissors. Needles are feather light, thread gossamer thin...
...songs by the wives of U. S. Presidents- TIME. Nov. 16), it was performed last week on NBC's Pil grim Program (studio program). Excerpts : Oh, Ye Gods why should my Poor Resistless Heart Stand to oppose thy might and power, At last surrender to Cupid's feather'd Dart, And now lays bleeding every h-o-u-r In deluding slee pings let my Eyelids close, That in an enraptured d-r-e-a-m I may, In a soft lulling sleep and gentle re pose, Possess those joys denied...
...adaptation by Niven Busch of Mary Roberts Rinehart's story. Comic relief in mystery stories is so easy to do that it is seldom done as satisfactorily as when a policeman herein finds fault with a nosey reporter. "I'm the Morning Eagle," says the reporter. "Go feather your nest," the policeman says, and throws him off the porch. Joan Blondell's round eyes give her, the astonished appearance proper to a female detective. George Brent, an actor currently being groomed as a competitor to Clark Gable, blunders about pleasantly as the police sergeant...