Word: grass
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...would seem that campaigning for the Presidency is degenerating into a contest for the "personality kid"-Ike's smile and Dick's boyish charm v. Keef's handshake and something homespun. However, there are some of us who live with grass, dandelions and pigweed, who drive second-hand Chevvies and read such unintellectual things as TIME magazine, but think that Stevenson is terrific and wish Kefauver would go stick his head in a bucket of the corn he's been slinging around the country. WILLIAM D. NICHOLSON New Castle...
...last week, Inventor Baschet proudly displayed the result of his nightwork: a monstrous collection of iron plates, steely spirals, glass rods in spiky rows, pneumatic cushions of red-and-white plastic, wires, bolts and screws, hammers, dampers. One instrument looked like a pair of inflated pontoons tangled in elephant grass and topped by the huge backbone of a fish. He tapped, squeezed, rubbed, twanged, and out of the contraptions came an amazing series of sounds-some of them hootingly sepulchral, some barkingly savage, some bewitching in the echoing tintinnabulations they set in motion. "Here you see the future of music...
...piano has its anxious note. Some 50 winters have weathered Cagney hard, and he begins to wonder if his filly won't "stray off" when the "grass . . . gets a little too thin around here." She says she won't, but then they quarrel about the "hangin' fever" that sets in whenever Cagney sees a rustler. The girl runs away with a stable boy (Don Dubbins), but she soon comes back-it's such fun to bang on that piano. "Don't worry," Cagney comforts the boy, "a fellow doesn't die from his first...
That Sunday morning, during a smoke break, he had found some of the recruits stretched out on the grass, even sleeping, in totally un-bootlike posture. Although it was Sunday, he had ordered a "field day" -a complete cleanup of the barracks with swab, scrub brush, creosote and yellow soap. At supper that evening the watchful McKeon had noticed that some of his boots took second helpings of dessert, despite his warning (as one recruit recalled) "against overeating sweets, especially when out on the rifle range. It makes shooting more difficult." With calm detachment, McKeon ordered another scrubdown...
...stream that ranges from 100 ft. wide and 4 ft. deep at low tide to 250 ft. wide and 12 ft. deep at high tide. To reach the stream, McKeon had to lead his men across a 100 ft. border of deep black mud carpeted by yard-high swamp grass. He did not hesitate, although he later admitted that he had "never been in the area before," a tragic lapse from the basic rule that a troop leader must know his ground. Behind McKeon, the recruits sank deep in the mud, slipping and sliding and clutching each other for support...