Word: winsors
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...Middlesex School," says the catalogue, "is a boarding school for boys which accepts a limited number of students from the immediate vicinity as day boys. The School, which is in the country about three miles from the town of Concord, Massachusetts, was founded in 1901 by Frederick Winsor, who served as Headmaster until his retirement in December, 1938, when Lawrence Terry succeeded to the Headmastership. The enrollment for the year 1957-1958 is one hundred and ninety-four boys, from twenty-six states...
Michael A. Boyd, G. De Spoelberch, Richard B. Dobrow, Alan D. Grinnell, S. Dale Harris, Jay R. Merson, James H. Reiss, Paul A. Roazan, Howard R. Sloan, and Ernest Winsor were elected from Leverett House...
...statement to this effect was released after Ernest Winsor '58, president of the Leverett House Dramatic Society, called a meeting of the House Dramatic group heads yesterday morning to discuss the proposal...
...matter of fact, Kathleen Winsor need never have written another line, but she seems to suffer from a continuing compulsion to act like an author. After Amber, she took a whack at fictionalized autobiography (Star Money) and fantasy (The Lovers), and flubbed both. Her latest offering, a raffish account of a smalltown childhood, sounds like a Booth Tarkington novel as retold by Erskine Caldwell. In the Winsor world, the war between the sexes starts early, and the casualty lists are stupendous. One of the combatants is Ruby, who at 16 already has "a rather sagging and accessible look...
...book offers enough coats and hooks to fill a good-sized cloakroom. Meanwhile, the younger kids scrape and squabble, while the old folks lead lives of quiet exasperation: a mother dies:a father loses his job; a family moves to another town. No small-town girl herself, Author Winsor (who grew up in Berkeley, Calif.) has caught a few authentic echoes of small-town speech. She quotes Dostoevsky to the effect that "there is nothing higher and stronger and more wholesome" than "a memory of childhood." But then, Dostoevsky never knew Kathleen Winsor, who makes childhood seem grubby...