Word: bowler
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...achieved a draw when rain halted play. But weather notwithstanding, Britons began to see England as the Aussies' equal for the first time in 20 years. For one thing, Australia is now without its famed batsman, the retired Sir Don Bradman. And against Australia's great Bowler Ray Lindwall, who can take his 20-yd. running start and fling the ball at close to 90 m.p.h.. England could pit some formidable batsmen of its own. Among them: Captain Len Hutton, who holds the record for runs scored in a test match (364), and Denis Compton, who seems...
...will be spared the horrors of a third world war." Replied the President: "You are leaving behind you a heritage of great achievement." ¶ Attended the yearly dinner of the White House Correspondents Association, grinned unfalteringly through a skit burlesquing his golf ("Be thankful he ain't a bowler"), a prolonged wink from Songstress Ethel Merman (I Get a Kick Out of You), a running patter of Comedian Bob Hope. Some Hope-isms: "It is a great pleasure to be here, entertaining our President. Of course, I had to sell all my Paramount stock before I could...
...Major climbed to 500 ft. over the City of London. It was lunch time, and, as he could see through the upper frames of his bifocals, Thameside was black with people. Suddenly he sent the little silver Auster hurtling out of the sun, straight for Blackfriars Bridge. Girls screamed, bowler hats ducked, but, with inches to spare, the Mad Major leveled out, missed Blackfriars, and with wheels brushing the water, skimmed upstream towards Waterloo Bridge. Between the water's surface and Waterloo's arches at low tide there is a bare 50 ft. of clearance...
...began seaching around for further signs of the reversion to Edwardianism, and to our dismay, we found several. Although we've seen nobody wearing a bowler, we know there are several floating around. Various acquaintances are known to possess slim, black walking sticks. And the other day on Plympton Street, we noticed somebody wearing a black cape...
...artist is a moonfaced little man of 54 who putters about Brussels, cultivating the philosophy that sprouts under his bowler. "Most people," he explains, "act unconsciously, thinking they know their goal. As for me, I'm consciously searching for the unknown." Four mornings a week Magritte stays home in his stuffy little apartment to paint. His technique is straightforward and exquisite; his results are oblique, funny, and sometimes forceful. Like Roman candles fired into the dark, his paintings are meant not to illuminate but to enhance the mystery of life...