Word: squats
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...platform skirted by a moat of lapping water, designed to evoke its old site on the west bank of the Nile. Even the rocky escarpment against which it stood has been simulated. The huge skylight and glass north wall set off its looming 26-ft.-high gateway and the squat bulk of the temple itself. Spotlights etch sharp shadows in the sunken reliefs on its walls, where in panel after panel Emperor Augustus, dressed as a pharaoh, respectfully offers incense, eye paint, wine, crowns or flowers to the two brothers, to the ram-headed Khnum, to the great goddess Isis...
...would be dry. Walking in the front door, I found myself in a large, empty lobby. The carpet was the deep, thick kind that absorbs most noise, the kind that you sink into as you walk across it. On the far side of the lobby sat a short, squat old man wearing a freshly pressed three-piece suit and tightly gripping a cane. As I walked in, he looked up at me eagerly...
...corner of Via Stresa and Via Fani, obscure street names that everyone in Italy knows today, a small, squat school bus braked slowly to a stop, and a flock of teen-age schoolgirls solemnly disembarked. They were 14 pupils of the school of the Little Servants of the Sacred Heart of Jesus, all in dark sweaters over blue smocks and white collars. Two of them walked over to a flower vendor's panel truck near by, bought a bouquet of pink carnations and rejoined the group, now standing'all in a row. They laid down their flowers, crossed...
...George Knox had been a holy terror, a Low Church Anglican minister who tried to flog the hell out of his sons. Grandfather Thomas French, in Fitzgerald's words, "was a saint ... and as exasperating as all saints," a gifted linguist and longtime missionary to India who would squat in the marketplace of Agra reading the Bible to lepers. But when Edmund Knox, sire of the four brothers, took the cloth, it was of a different cut. The tireless worker for his soot-stained Midlands flocks eventually became Bishop of Manchester. But he remained a gregarious and joyful...
Helen Elphick stands in the rain at the edge of a 6-ft. pile of cow dung, feeding two grotesque pigs, both part wild boar. Inside the smoky communal hut, couples in hides and rough wool garments squat around the fire, spit-roasting a heavy pork leg and preparing sausages and black pudding made from skin, offal and gut. John Rossetti sheds his clothes, steps into a wood tub and begins to scrub off five days' grime with clay and hot water. John Rockcliff enters through the goatskin door, carrying a rat he has caught. It will...