Word: lads
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...Latin Quarter. Munich's finest university was near by, abstract painters mingled with budding ballerinas, and professors were the local gods. Young Franz Josef might have gone right on cutting Weiss-null and Leberkds all his life if the parish priest had not observed how swiftly the lad caught the meaning of his Latin prayers and helped get him a scholarship at the crack Maximilian Gymnasium...
...husky, seven-year-old boy saw the cyclist change direction and, just for the hell of it, veer straight for him. But instead of leaping out of the way as the cyclist had assumed he would, the lad defiantly planted his feet, held his ground-and ended up with a broken leg. Last week, at 29, Dickie Moore could still grow stiff with anger when he recalled the incident. "I didn't like being pushed around then," he said, "and I don't like to be pushed around...
...points by warning boys that Notre Dame's strait-laced supervision eliminates a carefree campus life; e.g., freshmen have a 10 p.m. curfew. After one mauling of Notre Dame this year, a Chicago priest cracked to a Protestant friend: "I didn't mind so much that the lad was kicking those extra points against Notre Dame, but I did mind his crossing himself before each...
...John Updike's life seems like adequate preparation for the private terrors of his characters. Dry and courteous, only child of a high school mathematics teacher in Shillington, Pa., he brings to mind Picasso's picture Boy Leading a Horse and bears a pleasant resemblance to the lad. As a boy. Updike wanted to be a cartoonist for Disney or The New Yorker, and after Harvard he studied drawing at Oxford. He no longer draws or paints but is acute enough to know that his writing "is excessively pictorial." He began sending work to The New Yorker...
...Denmark's greatest teller of fairy tales, Hans Christian Andersen. Borge, wearing half-spectacles "for very short stories.'' read two Andersen tales to some 100 bemused tots. The children could not quite feign indifference to a real King and Queen, and at one point a local lad asked chainsmoking Frederik pointblank: "King, where is your crown? I thought all Kings wore crowns." Affable Frederik explained that a crown is a special-occasion headpiece: "I only wear it when I'm in Denmark.'' The answer did not quite satisfy the boy, who later told newsmen...