Word: nap
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...drained off, and some of the salt, mixed and diluted, came with it. The needle stayed in place, and the drip-and-drain process was repeated every four hours, round the clock. Dr.Kiley worked on five babies this way for 36 hours, with only an hour's nap, until Dr. Finberg, delayed by bad weather, arrived to relieve him. One by one, all but one of the remaining babies were taken off the critical list, though some were still sick...
...typical weekday in Dallas. Daddy is at work. Baby is having his morning nap. In an adjoining room, Brother (aged 3) is riding a new rocking horse and Sis (5) is watching TV cartoons. And Mommy? Mommy is just a few feet away, crouching over the foul line on Lane 53, her hip twisted sharply to the left to steer the blue-white-marbled ball into the strike pocket between the one and three pins. Mommy is bowling...
...bought on a 90-acre hillside tract overlooking the Connecticut River. That winter he happily carried water from his stream and cut wood with a chain saw. For company he hiked across the river to Windsor, Vt., and passed the time with teen-agers in a juke joint called Nap's Lunch. The kids loved him, but mothers worried that the tall, solemn writer fellow from New York would put their children in a book...
Artistic Battle. He had begun another of his withdrawals; he no longer spoke to the teen-agers with whom he had talked for hours in Nap's Lunch, cut off his widely spaced visits with Cornish neighbors. Occasionally he was seen at work in the nearby Dartmouth library, wearing, as a friend described it at the time, a checked wool shirt and "Genghis Khan beard." His working habits have not changed: Salinger takes a packed lunch to his cement-block cell, and works from 8:30 a.m. to 5:30 p.m. He can be reached there by phone?but. says...
...names ("Oofy" Prosser is the villain, J. Sheringham Adair is the private eye) are felicitously goofy. His "floaters" ("I wouldn't kiss her with a ten-foot pole!") are a caution. His puns ("A fete worse than death") are outrageous. His hyperbole ("Carpets of so thick a nap that midgets would get lost in them and have to be rescued by dogs") is ingenious. His clichés ("The shot's not on the board, old dear") click with an exquisite remoteness in the modern ear, like ghostly billiard balls in country houses far away and long...