Word: mold
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Dates: during 1940-1949
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...lacquered sketches trimmed to New Yorker specifications-deadpan, passionless portraits of cruel children, quietly miserable spinsters, clumsy middle-class drifters, city people lonely in the country. Shirley Jackson accumulates little piles of irrelevant detail, topples them over with the expected sardonic swipe. If she could break out of this mold, she might become one of the U.S.'s best short-story writers...
Since the discovery of mold-grown penicillin 20 years ago, most researchers have done their looking for new antibiotics in other molds. But apparently many new wonder drugs were hiding in many other unlikely places. Dr. John Robert Brown, of the University of Texas Medical Branch, has reported (in Texas Reports on Biology and Medicine) that he has extracted an antibiotic (thus far unproved) from ragweed. Last week, at a National Institute of Health symposium in Washington, new germ killers were reported from other strange sources...
Until last week Richard H. Crowe might have served as the mold and pattern of the rising executive. He had risen, job by job, for 19 years with Manhattan's great National City Bank; at 40, he was the assistant manager of a branch on Broadway-a bulky, assured, well-dressed man whose manners, energy and way with elder bank officers stamped him plainly as bound for bigger things...
Perle Mesta is shaped to the mold of a Rubens model who has reached the age of a Helen Hokinson character. Her figure requires stern corseting; she carries a diet book in her purse, consults it before ordering. Except for her parties, she hates to spend money. Once she walked two blocks to Democratic headquarters because her hotel charged 12? for a phone call. People are always trying to wheedle money out of her; she does her own ordering for big affairs, and drives a good housewifely bargain. Says Perle, thrusting out her chin: "I'm stingy. That...
This season eager Yale undergraduates and townspeople have crammed Payne Whitney gym to watch slender, 6 ft. 3 Tony Lavelli shoot baskets. He was as far from the old "Pudge" Heffelfinger mold in Yale athletes as was tiny footballer Albie Booth. For one thing, he was apt to be shy in a crowd; for another, what he really wanted to be was a musician. A competent piano and accordion player already, he hopes "to pick up some day in the musical comedy composing field where Cole Porter and Irving Berlin leave off." But with his long fingers Tony Lavelli could...