Word: inn
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...started off with great flair, giving the city handsome productions of Cherubini's short The Portuguese Inn, and Honegger's Joan of Arc at the Stake, both performed for the first time on a U.S. opera stage. The next year he followed up with the U.S. premiere of Sir William Walton's Troilus and Cressida. Adler also revived such difficult classics as Verdi's Macbeth and Wagner's Flying Dutchman, gradually building up his own high-caliber stable of singers, including Germany's Elisabeth Schwarzkopf, Vienna's Leonie Rysanek, British Tenor Richard Lewis...
...summer vacationers had vanished, and the juke joints along the shore looked ready to be boarded up. In the little village of Greenwood Lake, N.Y., only the Long Pond Inn showed signs of life. There the champ's camp followers-boxing writers soaking up free drink, ex-athletes gone fat in the jowls, the kind of women who get their names tattooed on sailors-swapped yarns as they waited for Sugar Ray Robinson, middleweight champion of the world...
...artillery captain in the Pacific, Prince wrote: that he wanted to adopt him and change, his name, so that a member of his family could carry on. Billy accepted, took over an empire that included the, Chicago Union Stock Yards. Chicago Junction Railway, Live Stock National Bank. Stock Yard Inn. International Amphitheater, and stock interests in Armour and other companies. But when Cousin Fred died at 93 in 1953, he did not leave Billy a cent in cash. Instead, he turned over his estate* (annual net before taxes: above $5.000,000) to Billy to run as its salaried co-trustee...
...greying, handsome man, a novelist by trade, sat in a New Jersey inn, talking amiably with two companions and sipping his favorite drink, an ice-cold, bone-dry martini with lemon peel. An animated party of four came in and sat down at the next table. The handsome man shifted uneasily. Beads of sweat pebbled his forehead as he stole a shy half-glance at the strangers. Abruptly, like a swimmer surfacing for a gasp of air, he got up, grabbed his drink and pivoted toward an untenanted dining area in the rear, taking his tablemates in tow with...
Columbia Records, no slouch at thicket-hunting, bagged its latest prize in its own doorway. Barbara Eichbauer, 23, is a statuesque suburbanite who wandered into Manhattan looking for an advertising job and wound up instead as a Columbia receptionist. She had once done a little singing at a local inn back in Forest Hills, N.Y., and confided to fellow workers that she happened to have a privately made recording. Just about that time, Orchestra Leader Percy Faith, one of Columbia's stable, was looking for a young unvarnished voice to go with a young unvarnished song called What...