Word: rife
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...Lady's Not for Burning (by Christopher Fry; produced by Atlantis Productions) is laid in the Middle Ages, written in verse, and rife with imagery. It sounds like dust and cobwebs; what it turns out to be is a broom. With great impish strokes and elaborate flourishes-and winking and singing as he works-Christopher Fry (see below) sweeps the prosy and the plausible off the boards for an hour. It is the performance of a fellow who not only knows how to handle a broom, but at intervals can ride off on the broomstick...
Even before the opening-session gavels fell, the air was rife with the shuffling and stomping of party leaders maneuvering for position. The Administration's tactics were: shoot the works, even on such issues as the Brannan Plan and Taft-Hartley repeal, which had little chance of passage, but would presumably make prime political ammunition later on. Administration leaders would plug hard to extend and increase social security, to jar the federal aid-to-education bill loose from the House Education and Labor Committee, to make Congress stand up and be counted on the compulsory health-insurance program...
...Sleeper. Most Americans think of malaria as a tropical disease, says Leon J. Warshaw in Malaria: the Biography of a Killer, published this week (Rinehart; $3.75). Actually, says Dr. Warshaw, the disease has struck from the Arctic to Patagonia. Once known as "the shakes," it was rife a century ago throughout most of the U.S. Dr. Warshaw, a New York diagnostician, estimates the number of U.S. sufferers today as high as 4,000,000. But no one knows just how many there are, because malaria is a skilled mimic, imitating the symptoms of other diseases...
Next morning, the Süddeutsche apologized for its stupidity in printing the letter, explained it had done it only to prove that the danger of anti-Semitism still was rife in Germany. Unappeased by the hapless apology, Bavaria's Jewish community proclaimed: "None of us wants to stay in this country . . . We have our own country...
...Angeles' Biltmore Hotel was rife last week with the easy slur of Southern accents. In the haze from their cigars, big cottonmen from the South gleefully watched pretty models step in & out of cotton garments, parade cotton bathing suits, evening gowns and house dresses nimbly converted from cotton feed bags. The National Cotton Council, for the first time since it was formed in 1938, was holding its annual convention in California...