Word: midstream
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...that his health had returned, he made his first try at getting out by going down the torrential Idle fork of the Kings River, attempted to swim across. He tied his summer flights suit and boots around his neck and gripped his underwear in his teeth, but, out in midstream, he found that he couldn't make it, lost his underwear when he opened his mouth. Making his way back to shore, he trudged back to the cabin, the bones of the deer carcass, and a couple 1954 issues of the Reader's Digest he had found...
Julitz, a good swimmer, led the way. He had not been present four months earlier when a battalion order was issued forbidding training troops to ford the Iller, and no one present thought to inform him of it. At midstream Julitz went under; only his helmet was visible. Within seconds the Iller's treacherous currents had caught the rest of the platoon...
...counselor than lawgiver. He was ten years older than most of the impressionist greats, and this induced in him a fatherly urge to take time off from his own painting to patch up quarrels, round up shows, hold together the impressionists as a group. Because he remained in the midstream of the art movements of his day. experimenting with each new movement and sponsoring innovations, his works lacked the distinctive quality that makes his contemporaries, Degas, Monet, Manet, Renoir and Cezanne, recognizable at a glance...
Even closer to the midstream of popular U.S. taste was Long Islander William Sidney Mount (1807-1868), who once noted in hsi diary: "I must paint such pictures as speak at once to the spectator . . . that will be understood in an instant." In paintings such as Banjo Player (opposite), Mount proved he knew his audience. Infused today with the nostalgic glow of yesteryear, they are kept just this side of sentimentalism by Mount's careful craftsmanship and observant eye. In their quiet way, they look good for many years to come...
...flotilla crossed the midstream boundary line into Canada, Victoria householders turned on their porch lights as beacons. By 110'clock Thomas was safely past Race Rocks, usually a tidal trap but now beneficently calm. At 1 o'clock he shouted: "It sure is cold." A few minutes later: "How'm I doin'? I want the truth now." Replied a voice from the King Bacardi: "You've caught 1½ miles in the last 20 minutes." A little later Thomas called out: "You fellas got nothing to worry about. Sit back and relax...