Word: ridings
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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Rapid Writer. Ned Buntline wrote hundreds of western and adventure tales. He could turn out a 610-page thriller in 62 hours-complete with such immortal lines as: "[Isabella] arose from the couch whereon she had been carelessly thrown . . ." He could ride and shoot like a Cody or a Hickock. When he was not dead drunk, he could spout a temperance speech that would awaken the remorse of the most sodden toper. When he was not in jail for fraud, slander, bigamy, libel or inciting to riot, he wrung women's hearts with his impassioned campaigns for purity. This...
...Boston Arena. The move nearly killed off Harvard basketball. By 1949-50 about the only Crimson fans watching Arena games were the managers and local scribes. The caliber of the post-1946 teams had admittedly fallen off, but yet the occasional I.A.B. games would draw 1,000 rooters. The ride in town just didn't seem to interest undergraduates, so last season the Crimson five returned to the L.A.B. at the request of Shepard, who figured one way to help Harvard basketball was to get some fans. He did. Last year the crowds averaged over 800 despite a mediocre ball...
...postscript to his story on Sweden's "Well-Stocked Cellar" in our Dec. 31 issue, TIME Senior Editor Henry Anatole Grunwald sent a letter describing a reindeer sleigh ride in the wilds of Lapland. I thought you would be interested in reading part of it, because it is indicative of the far corners to which some of our editors penetrate when they take trips away from home...
...undertook the ride not purely in the spirit of adventure," Grunwald wrote with lavish understatement, "but because it offered the only means of transportation to a reindeer roundup that I wanted very much to see. For the first few minutes, a friendly Lapp sat beside me on the precarious vehicle, not improved in design since the stone age, and all was well. But then the caravan stopped for an instant, the Lapp got up, handed me the crude reins, grinned encouragingly, and was gone. There I crouched, staring at the jiggling rump of the reindeer, going like crazy across...
...first novel, Honey in the Horn. Author Davis climbed astride the tired old cayuse of the western story, rode it through a bright panorama of the old West, and won a well-deserved Pulitzer Prize (1936). In his latest book, Davis goes for the same sort of ride, but over a later terrain: the time is somewhere in the mid-'20s, and the old Northwest is fast becoming the new Northwest...