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...Quite There. In Springfield, Ohio, resourceful Contractor Julius N. Marcinko had trouble with a key that wouldn't fit, finally got in through the basement window and laid a tile floor in the kitchen of the wrong house. In Nashville, Tenn., a woman had a neat, small house constructed, then discovered that the lot she owned was down the street...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Miscellany, Jun. 16, 1947 | 6/16/1947 | See Source »

Star of the walkaway victory was Backyard Stupor, who reeled off gains of 45 and 65 yards to tally twice for the Plympton marauders. Behind good blocking and spirited team play, run after run crossed the platter before the Dutch Tile merchants could organize their defense. Only Minus Goodenough failed to score for the journalists in the free-for-all hitting contest...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Hrabious Crimeds Dine on Runcihle Poon, Detging All Predictions in 23-2 Clambake | 5/9/1947 | See Source »

...nice thing about New England weather," said 'Poonprexy Clemens R. Woop ocC yesterday, "Is that it might rain on Thursday." With a nervous glance at sunny skies overhead, the Dutch Tile entrepreneur told newsmen that his pawky band of funnymen were holding daily prayers for a deluge which might eliminate the 23-2 pasting by the CRIMSON's diamond forces, scheduled for tomorrow afternoon...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Lampy's Woop Seeks Pluvius To Damp Crime's 23-2 Reign | 5/7/1947 | See Source »

Footloose. In Lille, France, tile-setter Yvon Dherire slipped from a roof, plummeted six stories, landed unhurt in a baby buggy from 'which a mother had just snatched her child. Consequence: the mother fainted, fell, broke an ankle...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Miscellany, Jan. 27, 1947 | 1/27/1947 | See Source »

...brown-faced Puerto Rican, walked into a Times Square subway station. There were only a dozen people in the echoing cavern, but one of them-a huge, slack-faced man-was drunk. As he reeled and mumbled, the rest watched him nervously. Suddenly they shrank back against the shiny, tile walls; the drunken man was twirling a revolver. He swung around, his eyes full of cunning, and threw his free arm around the neck of the man nearest to him-which happened to be Hector Orta. The big man pushed the revolver against the little man and fired. He fired...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: National Affairs: Trio | 12/16/1946 | See Source »

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