Word: gushingly
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...trouble with the Nile has always been its irregularity. Most of the year it flows sluggishly far below its banks. But between July and October, a great gush of muddy water floods the narrow, fertile valley. For the ancient Egyptians, who did not demand too much of their sacred river, the flood was fine. They built mud dikes around the fields, and caught the flood water in shallow basins. The silt settled to the bottom, keeping the soil fertile, millennium after millennium. When the water. was gone, the peasants planted their crops, often without plowing or other preparation...
...soon as the first fire engine pulled to a stop on the corner and the smokefighters opened water valves, a gush of muddy water immediately smacked three students in the face. Someone had forgotten to attach the hose...
...ragged, hideously misprinted, sometimes illustrated with pictures that had nothing to do with the text, the penny-dreadfuls had many of the virtues of naked imagination, all the vices of standardized hack work. Their authors, paid by the line (less than a penny), took care that each scream, each gush of blood, even each sentence, received a line all to itself-and thereby laid the foundation of the clipped, brusque speech of the contemporary thriller. Their immediate fascination and influence were enormous. Charles Dickens' low-life reflected their high-spots, Wilkie Collins refined their eeriness. The young...
...candidates before Beverly appeared, but Beverly was worth waiting for. With her mouthful of braces, untameable hair and raucous neigh, she out-fuffied Fuffy. Beverly is "just crazy" about Barbara, is trying to "develop more of a squeak - like my mother's." The program rates her ultimate gush : "I'd listen to it whether I were on it or not." Creator Benson, now one of MGM's top ($3,500 weekly) writers, is the show's "supervisor," a position that permits her to collect royalties and lead the sideline cheering section. Last week, Sponsor Lever Bros...
...down Italy's long spine. TIME Correspondent Emmet Hughes cabled from Naples: "In a café on the Via Medina, I asked the sad, round-faced proprietor behind the marble counter how afraid he was. His stubbly chin trembled and the watery blue eyes seemed ready to gush tears as he said, 'Of course I'm afraid. How many Italians have to die? You Americans killed some. The Germans killed others. Now it seems we're going to kill each other. We've got poverty. We've got hunger. Must we have...