Word: hawthorns
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Vice President Kenneth Giniger of Prentice-Hall's Hawthorn Books found one of his more successful package series in a succession of picture books showing Bishop Fulton J. Sheen acting out the Mass, touring Rome, and so forth. "It's like doing a movie, and I'm the producer," says Giniger happily, and he is obviously his own best pressagent. He discourages authors and agents. The firm invents most of its subjects, then cuts its risk with businesslike efficiency: it sends out form letters asking prospective customers if they would like to inspect a new book...
...Inspirational Things, compiled by Audrey Stone Morris (Hawthorn; $4.95). This, the Hawthorn brochure announces reverently, is a companion column to 1,000 Beautiful Things and 1,000 American Things...
Since the death of Auto Racer Mike Hawthorn in an ordinary accident on an ordinary road last winter, Britain's fastest, most expert drivers have pretty much throttled down out on the highway, with one exception: Countess Attlee, 63, wife of and longtime driver for former Prime Minister Clement Attlee. Last week Lady Attlee, whose cool daring behind the wheel gave newsmen a run for their copy during election campaigns, had a bit of bad luck, cracked a collarbone in a collision at a North London crossroads known as "Danger Junction." It was her fifth crash in four years...
...Marcel "mon petit loup," but far from being wolflike, he was a Little Lord Fauntleroy who threw temper tantrums and suffered from asthma. Much of Proust's boyhood had bucolic charm. At Illiers (Combray in the novel), Dr. Proust's home town, the family romped along the hawthorn hedges of the Méréglise Way (later Swann's Way) or ambled along a winding river (later the Guermantes Way). On the lawns of the Champs Elysées, the 14-year-old played at prisoner's base and puppy love with perky Marie...
...when he hurtled past a Mercedes-driving friend (who denies that any race was involved). Ahead of him, the friend saw the Jaguar suddenly go into a long skid. "I thought: 'Good old Mike. He'll soon flick out of that one.' " But this time, Mike Hawthorn's practiced skill was not enough. The Jaguar whipped into the opposite lane, clipped an oncoming truck, rolled over twice, bounced off a tree, ended, a battered pile of junk, in a roadside hedge. It took firemen an hour to extricate Mike's body...