Word: philanthropist
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Down and out in Paris, grimly poking through garbage cans for rubbish to swap for food, Science Student Jean-Claude Rebours. 20, often thought with irony of the tough philanthropist whose ideas had goaded him into studying the city's clochards-its beggars and bums. It was the notion of Millionaire Jean Walter, who died two years ago at 74, that French lycées placed too much emphasis on book learning. "Our educational system fails to prepare French youth for the tasks to be faced as men," he wrote sternly. "There is not enough contact with life." Jean...
...tremens. Rebours' total expense account of about $19.50 included 14 Camembert cheeses, 20 loaves of bread, six helpings of fried potatoes bought to celebrate Jeannot's discovery of some marketable shoes, plus 190 glasses of wine downed to keep up with his tipsy pals. But just as Philanthropist Walter intended, Rebours' dip in the depths paid off. He was so successful at putting his experience on paper that he decided to quit science for journalism. Last week France-Soir tentatively promised Rebours a job soon as one of its reporters...
...nineteenth century produced the most specutacular crime in Harvard history. On a Friday afternoon in November of 1849 Dr. Georgius Parkman, a widely known philanthropist, humanitarian and instructor at Harvard Medical School, was murdered and his body mutilated so horribly that it had to be identified by his dentist...
...Nixonism has replaced McCarthyism as the greatest threat to the prestige of our nation today"). Then Governor Harriman gave her a reason-by implying, in a radio broadcast, that Rockefeller was pro-Arab and anti-Israel. En route to Baltimore to visit the ailing mother of her fourth husband, Philanthropist Rudolf G. Sonneborn (and co-chairman of Democrats for Rockefeller), Dolly brooded and made up her mind...
...addition to public munificence, Colonel Baker carries on quiet good works; e.g., when he hears of deserving citizens whose taxes are in arrears he wipes out their delinquency. Between times, the fragile (135 Ibs.) philanthropist holds court in the coffee shop of the Baker Hotel, where he has lived since his wife died in 1939. Fellow townsmen are allowed to stop and chat if a hovering nurse nods to them, are offered Robert Burns Panatelas at audience's end. The cigars must be smoked immediately; E. J. Baker likes his gifts to be used...