Word: fonds
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...court records show a sorry existence, the paintings a radiant one. Hals's life was both. He fathered 14 children, often went cold and hungry with his brood, died penniless (in 1666) at the age of 86. In good times he would march off to the club, being fond of music, beer and jolly company. His canvases show mainly sunny people, as if reflected in the elbow-polished wood of a tavern table...
...replant it on the head of a pin. Until White recently got hold of one of the Cornell library's two surviving copies, he had not laid eyes on the book in 38 years. Now, thanks to White, the supply has been replenished (Macmillan; $2.50) with a fond testimonial by White: "From every page there peers out at me the puckish face of my professor, his short hair . . . combed down over his forehead, his eyes blinking incessantly behind steel-rimmed spectacles as though he had just emerged into strong light, his lips nibbling each other like nervous horses...
...Trains for God? During and since the war, Snow and his colleagues have interviewed about 25% of Britain's 125,000-odd scientific workers. "I confess that even I, who am fond of them and respect them, was a bit shaken. We hadn't expected that the links with traditional culture should be so tenuous." When asked what books they read, the scientists said: " 'Well, I've tried a bit of Dickens,' rather as though Dickens were an extraordinarily esoteric, tangled and dubiously rewarding writer...
Playwright Garson (Born Yesterday) Kanin (rhymes with rain in), a jazz saxophonist during his knockabout days, has managed this much. His novel is cast in the form of a onetime saxman's fond, moody reminiscence of the hard-blowing early '303. Jogged by a telephone call from one of his old partners, the narrator recalls the rise and fall of the combo they formed. The group begins as a trio, built around an astonishingly good young trumpeter. Then the saxman finds a pianist at a Harlem rent party, and the trio sounds even better as a quartet. Bookings...
...fond, mellow mood eventually turns sour. Kanin. carefully foreshadowing, leads the reader toward what should be a shocker of an ending. The combo folded, the narrator recalls, after its thunderous Negro drummer died of too many pep pills and too much whisky. Slowly, 25 years later, the sax player is made aware of a horrifying truth: one of the white bandsmen, obsessed with race hatred, deliberately fed the ailing Negro the poison that would kill...