Word: sussex
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Nowhere to Nowhere. Hundreds of Englishmen exist for the sole purpose of keeping branch lines running, raising cash to rent doomed sections from Railway Boss Beeching, making weekend pilgrim ages to such officially abandoned routes as the Bluebell ("Nowhere to Nowhere") loop in Sussex. Despite a petition signed by 25,000 rail buffs, the Society for the Reinvigoration of Unremunerative Branch Lines in the United Kingdom (SRUBLUK) failed to keep open the scenic reach between Westerham and Dunton Green in Kent last October...
...Harvard Glee Club has recorded on a local label a handsome selection of the more worthwhile Christmas carols--Volume I (Cambridge Records CRS-401), for instance, includes Vaughan Williams' arrangements of the Gloucestershire and Yorkshire Wassails, "Lo, How a Rose," Gustav Holst's Personent Hodie, the sussex Carol, and "The Holly and the Ivy." The Glee Club, recorded in Memorial Church, sings under the direction of G. Wallace Woodworth, and performs with its usual fluency and competence...
...Laurence Olivier, 54, Britain's towering trouper, and his Tony-winning third wife, Actress Joan (A Taste of Honey) Plowright, 32: a son, their first child and his second (the other, by First Wife Jill Esmond, is now 24 and roving in the Far East); in Hove, East Sussex...
...busily set about furnishing his newly acquired country seat in Sussex. Among its ornaments: redheaded Socialite Penelope Gilliat, 29, a London cinema critic and wife of Neurologist Roger Gilliatt, the best man at Princess Margaret's wedding. In response to pointed questions from Fleet Street newshawks, Dramatist Osborne offered some uncharacteristically wooden dialogue: "It is true that Mrs. Gilliatt and I brought some of our belongings here over the weekend . . . Mrs. Gilliatt will be staying here with me for some time...
...charm, the least of Hayward's flim-flamboyance. And in Ralph Meeker he viciously personifies the police power in a native Fascist regime. But it is Actor White-a British trouper usually cast as a potty colonel, a flaccid vicar, or a dear old rose fiend in Sussex-who domi nates the audience as a waving cobra fascinates a mouse. With his small, reptilian grin and oily suppleness, he conveys the immemorial image of the big political snake, the everlasting reason why you can't fight city hall...