Word: itched
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...Swimmer's itch," long thought to be caused in salt water by pollution or jellyfish stings, has been traced to the common mud snail. The snail's tiny larvae attack swimmers in calm waters and cause an itchy rash. Best way to outwit them: avoid still waters, keep splashing, take a shower afterwards...
Mortimer Adler is with us again, I see. Like the seven-year itch, he crops up right on schedule. But why TIME [March 17] should make an issue out of Adler's banalities is beyond me ... His sophistries are more transparent than ever. His furious preoccupation with thought is an academic pose. There is no need for him to make believe that he is searching for truth, because he has it up his sleeve all the time...
...left alone. In their tiny (pop. 600) village and valley, nestled among the towering peaks of the French Alps, they raised their crops, milked their cows, patched their limestone houses and married their neighbors. Then came the French government, with the U.S. Marshall Plan dollars and an itch to spread electricity and progress. The government decided to raise a dam on the Isère River just above Tignes-a dam that would flood out the village...
...York Times printed a letter from a Londoner who had the itch to gamble: "May I . . . ask if you can recommend to me the names of three or four reliable, honest political bookmakers in New York (or elsewhere in the U.S.A.) who might be willing to quote me odds on Governor Earl Warren (California) as President. As I may be interested in placing a fairly sizable bet on Governor Warren's chances (if the odds were proper), it would be imperative that I be dealing with a man of unquestioned integrity and with adequate funds at his disposal...
...year after his father died, Robinson had to leave Harvard and go back to Maine. But he could not keep his mind on his chores around the house; he was devoured by the "itch for authorship." At 27 he scraped together $52 and privately published his first book of poems. Critics were polite, the public was indifferent. At 30 Robinson tried again. He took a small family inheritance and moved to New York. He was soon living on a diet of beans, apples and rejection slips. When he had enough rejected poems for another book, he scouted vainly...