Word: mops
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...camera takes one long look at the defendant, a scared little slum bunny accused of taking his old man apart with a switchblade, and follows the twelve men into the jury room-the main institutional horror that looks (and probably smells) as if it used to be a mop closet. For the next hour and a half the moviegoer never gets his nose out of that room, or out of the mess that justice...
From Putney Bridge to Mortlake, the crowds that walled the winding Thames last week recognized the 103rd rowing of the Oxford-Cambridge University Boat Race as a very special race indeed. But more than any other man on the river, Roderick Carnegie, 24. the mop-haired Aussie pulling Oxford's No. 7 sweep, was entitled to a bellyful of butterflies. Win or lose, this year the oldest of college boat races belonged to him. This was the payoff to "Rod's Revolution," the big test of his brash attack on the traditional style of British rowing...
...plenty of effective ways to sterilize surgeons' hands, their gloves, instruments and other equipment; the trouble is that bacteria are wafted around a patient's wound from faulty air conditioning, doctors' and nurses' noses and throats, or from a floor recently swabbed with a filthy mop ("The mop gets in the wound more than the hemostat"). Other Walter points: ¶Hospitals pay their workers so little that they get only the poorly educated, who cannot understand the difference between "clean" and truly germfree. Further, the help get little on-the-job training. ¶ Doctors rely...
Somehow this seemed a perfectly natural background for Peter Szanto. Short, powerfully built, with a freckled face and a mop of disarrayed red hair, Peter was a product of Budapest's war-battered slums. He was one of those people, men, women, even children, who came up from nowhere to carry on the freedom fight after many like Janos Feher had died, and some like Ferenc Kocsis had left...
This first novel is an attempt to get inside the mind of Juanito, an illiterate village Indian from the mountains of Mexico. Every tourist there has seen his like: thin-headed, with a mop of coarse black hair, large-eyed, flat-nosed, full-lipped, looking with impassive dignity from beneath a frayed straw hat. Juanito is the stuff of revolutions, but his private revolutions fail, and he has learned only one thing in life: how to die well...