Word: llewellyn
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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George Merck had already started the family which was to carry on the U.S. business. He settled with his wife (from a Darmstadt family) in Llewellyn Park, N.J., within a stone's throw of Thomas Alva Edison's home and laboratory. In 1894 his first child (of five) and only son, George, was born...
...Edward Haar '50, Music; Wolfgang William Hallo '49, History; Francis Russell Hart, 3d '50, English; Donald Grant Hitchings '48, Economics; Charles Eric Ho '50, Chemistry; Anatol Wolf Holt '50, Mathematics; Milton Forrest Hughes '50, English; Herbert Samuel Hurwitz '50, Biology; Humphrey Wynne Johnson '50, Comp. Phil. & Rom. Languages; David Llewellyn Jones '50, English; John Lord Kice '50, Chemistry; William Aloys Klemperer '50, Chemistry; Allen Eugene Kline '50, Economics; Walter Emery Klingenasmith '50, Biology; Karl George Kohn '48, Music...
LABOR The Marengo Campaign For John Llewellyn Lewis the week began in acute suspense. It ended in one of the greatest victories of his thunderous career, after a battle which John pompously compared to Napoleon's bitter campaign on the plains of Marengo...
...Flowers for Shiner the strain is notably weakened: plenty of people will still take Llewellyn, but few are apt to be knocked off their feet. But in Hollywood there may well be an epidemic of ecstasy; a clod could scarcely fail to make an exciting movie out of this book. How can a director miss with a story whose heroine is a truck...
Hands in the Brain. Childe Rosie progresses through Italy to the accompaniment of a mighty lurching, whanging and screeching of the prose mechanism. Anybody with half an ear would call for a garage stop, but Author Llewellyn doggedly goes on piling up mileage. His princess does not get angry: she "looked through scarlet lace." A soldier does not feel regret: "hands were wringing in his brain." Snowy's leg is not suddenly weak: it goes to "laughing gristle." Other Llewellynisms that would flood any ordinary carburetor: "A quick thrust of pity alchemised her feeling to a silt of motherly...