Word: wilfrid
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Dust screens rise before the attacking tribesmen, mobile artillery lobs fireballs at the wooden stockade, and at the climactic moment an improvised land torpedo demolishes a corner of the fort. The siege is superlatively picturesque, and so is almost everything else that Cameraman "Wilfrid Cline has trained his lens on. Some spectators, though, may be mildly startled at the final fade, in which the lovers are back in the water again, drifting sensuously downstream together with nothing on as they laugh derisively at the wagon train that rolls sturdily past them on its way to the coast. Somehow, it just...
...Wilfrid Garrett, the Anglican layman (a retired colonel) under whose chairmanship the report had been prepared, opened the debate with a defense of the report against charges of "Machiavellian plotting or external influence." He bluntly accused Dr. Frank Buchman's M.R.A. of "political-pressure-group tactics." Said the Bishop of Colchester: In addition to its "Four Absolutes" of honesty, love, purity, and unselfishness, M.R.A. was trying to add a fifth-"absolute approval or absolute praise [of its work] . . . That in all seriousness," said the bishop, "is the root of all the trouble caused by this report." Top M.R.A. supporter...
Innocence & Scoundrels. Emily was 18 when the fundamentals of botany proved to be just as dangerous as Lady Ampthill had suggested. Poet Wilfrid Blunt, "a strikingly handsome" married man of 53, attempted to seduce her in the best tradition of Victorian villainy. Blunt wore Arab dress and exuded a virile masculinity breathtakingly different from the jam and waxworks of everyday life. "He took me through the park to a wood which was very pretty," Emily wrote his Rev. He at once took my hand and kissed it and stroked it, said he adored me, which I told...
...WILFRID GRENVILLE-GREY...
...London winter of 1887, a grubby manuscript fell into the mailbox of the monthly Merry England. Editor Wilfrid Meynell promptly pigeonholed it and did not look at it for six months. By then the author, a certain Francis Joseph Thompson, had disappeared. Letters addressed to him went unanswered. At last Meynell resorted to the oldest author-tracing trick of the trade: he printed one of the submitted poems, The Passion of Mary, and found his poet...