Word: fey
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...nudge, bop and scram; he is master of the soft shoe, the dead pan, the faraway smile. As Rumple, a newspaper-cartoon character in danger of extinction because his creator has lost the power to portray him, he fights for survival with tactics that happily are more Foy than fey...
Songs for a Smoke-Filled Room (Elsa Lanchester; Hifirecords LP). A fey, offbeat collection of songs both sprightly and shivery by the apricot-haired English comedienne, with tongue-in-jowl introductions by husband Charles Laughton. The selections range from Fiji Fanny, a raucous burlesque of the songs the trade calls "grass-skirt numbers," to a haunted, spine-crawling ditty titled If You Peek in My Gazebo, which tells the tale of a mad New England spinster who sits each evening in a summerhouse on the hill secretly watching the lusty young village bucks stroll...
Simply Drifting. Ritchard might well have been describing Ritchard. As a highly flexible Superman of the arts, big (6 ft. 2 in., 194 Ibs.), urbane Cyril Ritchard is also the fey earth visitor (and director) of Broadway's hit play A Visit to a Small Planet, a sort of personal gilly for his neat bag of vaudevillian's tricks. This spring, between performances, he made flying trips cross-country to play the leading comedy role in the Metropolitan Opera's Gilbert-and-Sullivanish souffle, La Périchole, which he also staged. "I sound like a sick...
...sell." On the other hand, understated advertising has successfully sold many items, from dogfood to diapers, in mass-market fields where there is little discernible difference between competing products. Instead of lecturing readers on engine-ping, Standard Oil Co. (Ohio) diverts them with spaceship cartoons. George Gobel's fey, sophisticated humor has helped to build Dial soap into one of the three top-selling U.S. brands...
...Patrickstown simpleton, is vouchsafed a vision of the Virgin, and the populace turns from litigation to religion. Not, however, before the Irish, who stand "on the periphery of chaos," move into dead center and, in the book's most comic turn, infect the Sassenach with their own fey reasoning. "The bog water is rapidly rising in my brain," Butler finds, and obedient to the hypnosis that compels non-Irish reporters to write in a kind of stage Irish when describing St. Patrick's Day parades, he begins to talk in the wild, oblique, subjunctive manner of the natives...