Word: gats
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News from the Coast yesterday that Humphrey Bogart had traded in his gat came, if it had to come, at the wrong time of year. Bogie, the Andover man who never made it to Yale, was a welcome friend in warm, dark movie houses as exams menaced. While many of his 70-odd pictures will be around a long time, it's sad to realize that he won't be climbing in and out of shiny limousines on rainy nights, his dirty trenchcoat stiff despite his jaunty gait, his ragged lisp almost but never quite making him sound comical...
...unannounced, smack in the middle of the tough guy's living room. Then in strolled the doll, Fashion Designer Jane Adler, 42, named in Gladys Robinson's complaint. As the brunette swiftly exited, Actor Robinson, 62, bounced up at stage center, reached for no shoulder-holstered gat, but rasped: "Do you think it's right to walk in on people like this?" Apologizing, Newshawk Wantuch, his tabloid fodder virtually in the hopper, edged back for the elevator amidst running dialogue with Robinson, whose 29-year marriage was never more on the rocks. Robinson: "Are you married?" Wantuch...
...bleary, boozy morning-after in a Harlem after-hours club. "They were arguing about chicks," reported one jive-talking eyewitness. "One thing led to another and this cat whipped out the difference [i.e., a gat] and started firing away. Everybody ducked for cover and I got so scared I ran up my buddy's back like a window shade." Accused as the cat with the difference: Negro Bistro Singer Billy (That Old Black Magic) Daniels, 40. Daniels, to whom it was "all a blank," was soon free on $2,500 bond. But the victim, a 33-year-old drifter...
...life of the show is Danny Kaye, who once had nothing much better to say than geet-gat-gittle. He has become a rare film comedian who will give up a laugh now for a smile later, who cares less for his part than for the whole...
...nowe is al Reasoun disperplyd, for lo! ther rideth out of the Weste upon usse Sir Alaine the Ladd, whych is siccar the most onnatural knight that ever was my doole to see. Ho! Ho! For hee kann not gat his legs arounde a propre Hors, beeing knocken knee. Therfor muste an other ryde into battail in his stead, whiles hee sits pyght and pritty on a woodan tubbe ycovred in hors hyde, and doth preetende to make the onslaught-slishe! slashe!-a-straking o' the air on's Sworde, and a-brasting of's cheekes...