Word: knee-deep
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...Swiss Alps, it is loaded with clear, fast shots of some of the world's finest skiers-the women's team of the Paris Ski Club, French International Racing Champion Louis Agnel-careening down mountainsides, whizzing through the frosty air. A silly boy-girl-mortgage plot clumps knee-deep through the snow scenes, but persevering wintersports addicts should sit it out for the spectacular views of ski experts running through their fanciest paces...
First Stab at Trondheim. The narrow, rutted roads were knee-deep in late-April slush. German bombers and attack ships roared low over the pinetops. From southeast of Steinkjer, smashing echoes rolled into the mountains from the guns of German destroyers and a pocket battleship (probably the Liitzow) bottled up in Beitstad Fjord, as the Germans moved them up to support their land forces...
...over mail and official-looking reports. Occasionally he would go inside, make long telephone calls. He had a portable radio which he tuned to catch all news reports, and he carried it with him when he went to the beach at n :30. There he stood for 15 minutes, knee-deep on the hissing shingle. After his circulation was thus methodically aroused, he plunged in, swam past the breakers, churned up & down parallel to the beach for 45 minutes, ably swimming side stroke, breast stroke, Australian crawl. Then he went to lunch (fruit only) at the moderately swank Dunes Club...
Around Boothbay harbor and Wiscasset last week wormdiggers were working night and day to meet the demand of an unusually good fishing season. At low tide the diggers wade around in knee-deep mud, combing wrigglers to the surface with long-tined clam rakes. A lucky day's haul is 1,000 worms but the average is 500 or less, paid for by worm dealers at the rate of 75? per hundred. In night digging the men wear dazzling electric spot lights on their foreheads, and have a slightly greater advantage over the quarry, whose custom is to bask...
...Knee-deep in snow 10,000 ft. up the granite scarp of Lone Peak in the Wasatch Mountains, 25 miles southeast of Salt Lake City, last week a snowy-haired oldster of 90 named Ed Hamilton fingered a small splinter of duralumin while tears filled his eyes. Tugging at his white beard, he mumbled: "I'm glad. That...