Word: duffs
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Smoldering Duff. As evacuees finally bedded down in nearby towns of Sturgis and Spearfish (S.D.) and Newcastle (Wyo.) and in hundreds of tourist cabins in the Black Hills, the fighters worked through the night. Twenty miles away, outside the town of Nemo, another fire raged. Said one fire boss grimly: "If them two sons of bitches come together and start crowning [i.e., spreading among the treetops], it won't stop till it gets to Custer, and we'll all look like Custer's men after the battle." At midmorning next day, the men were still fighting...
Enter Brett Ashley. Chances are that Harold Loeb would never have been a character in a Hemingway novel if Duff Twitchell had not riveted his eye in the mirror of the Select Cafe in Paris and said, in her low, exciting voice, "It is the only miracle"-meaning love. Duff took love and drink in immoderation. Depending on the flow of checks from England, she and her upper-Bohemian lover, Pat Swazey, lived on champagne or birdseed. Duff called strangers "darling" and friends "good chaps," had a title by marriage, and as anyone may guess, was the model for Hemingway...
...fiesta in Pamplona the tensions boiled over. Pat and Duff were back together, but the lovesick Harold could not quite believe that the great affair had ended. He irritated Hemingway by finding the bullfights less than rapturous, indeed "shameful" (Loeb momentarily rode a young bull's head, broncobuster fashion, in the amateur frolic). On the last night of the festival, they stepped into an alley to slug it out. "I don't want to hit you," said Harold. "Me either," said Hemingway. The hairy-chested novelist saved his punch for The Sun Also Rises...
Lucille Ball-Desi Arnaz Show (CBS, 10-11 p.m.). Lucy and Desi charge off to the north woods with Howard Duff and Ida Lupino...
...Martha Duff, a fragment of another essay might be ample justification for a life spent in the jungle: "This is my school . . . Here some time ago I came ... I didn't know a thing then . . . Now, already, I know several things...