Word: icing
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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Like business in Hollywood, the Big Green is colossal, but it's improving. Last winter, for instance, in facing Yale for the intercollegiate championship of this country, some two dozen Indians ventured onto the Boston Arena ice, any six of whom probably could have dispatched the Elis with case. This year, with three of their best at St. Moritz, Dartmouth kept right on winning and already has defeated Yale and Princeton twice each. Their mysterious 4 to 3 loss to Boston College some weeks back was accomplished at full strength. Sixteen other times this winter they have been victorious...
...What Sort Big Dornkey?" The sights and sounds of civilization brought murmurs of comparison. On Tristan, fish oil lights the lamps. The diet is fish and potatoes, augmented sometimes by albatross and penguin eggs. Now the six men looked into the kaleidoscope of a lighted city. They ate ice cream doused with brandy. They gazed at autos. Murmured balding, long-nosed Gordon Glass* at his first glimpse of one: "A most wunnerful movement." At his first sight of a horse: "What sort big dornkey is that...
Commercials for television are causing deep furrows in admen's brows. The perfect solution, advertising experts have decided, would be an overpowering combination of eye-catcher (four roses in a hunk of ice) and ear-filler ("Pepsi-Cola hits the spot...
...sturdy, tough-looking Italian, Nino Bibbia, whose father runs a fruit& -vegetable shop in St. Moritz. Nino lay down on the iron framework of his toboggan, crash helmet in place, and shoved off. His "skeleton" (as Alpine tobogganers call their steel-runnered sleds) slithered dangerously down the famous ice chute, whose turns have sporty names like Scylla, Charybdis and Battledore...
Bibbia roared into Church Leap with his face a few inches from the ice, steering with his body, breaking & banking with his spiked boots. For a fleeting second, he could see the white panorama of St. Moritz, and directly below-extending a sinister invitation-the village cemetery. One false move would put him in it. A few yards further, he roared into a sharp right turn, had no trouble until his skeleton sled went too high into Shuttlecock. With a desperate jerk, he brought it down. Said he afterwards: "I still had two fingers of space between the edge...