Word: waisted
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Clark Gable is more virile than ever, seldom being hampered by clothes above the waist. He does much in this picture to justify his lionization and to make it permanent. As for the native Tahitians, men and women, they all demonstrate the beauty of the Polynesian physique, and, by their superb acting, the acuteness of the Polynesian intelligence. Some pungent contrasts between their savagery and our civilization are subtly brought forward by Frauchot Tone's study of their language...
...laborers worked stripped to the waist. One group carried stones on their heads as their slave forefathers did in the days of Solomon, piling rubble along the railroad at Dire Dawa for possible necessary emergency repairs...
...searching every inch of the ground for pitfalls, every rock for snipers. Then the main advance: infantrymen in single file slogging along the gutters and the centres of the rude roadways jammed with trucks, caissons, field pieces, and long lines of swaying supercilious camels. Labor battalions, stripped to the waist, were mixed right in with the marching men. As the infantry advanced they sprang to work building roads for the heavy trucks to follow, singing...
...taken to Marat, found him sitting in his bath, correcting proof on a plank laid across the tub. Seriously ill, Marat spent his days in a slipper tub, nude to the waist, a dressing-gown thrown across his shoulders, his head bound in vinegar-soaked muslin, fighting arthritis, eczema and the great heat. His flesh corrupting, his blood poisoned, death was only a matter of weeks. His lead-colored features were swollen and disfigured with sores; his eyes, bloodshot arid yellow-grey, were nevertheless serene. He spoke to her gently. Awaiting her opportunity, she gave him details of an uprising...
...overtakes the fleeing Negro, pinions him fast. Then from his pocket the gentleman whips a gleaming pen knife. Deftly he slits the Negro's throat from ear to ear. Returning to the young woman, who has now recovered, the immaculate avenger doffs his topper, bows from the waist saying, "Your purse, Madam," steps quickly back into his limousine, purrs away into the night. . . . Should a Hollywood producer present such a scene on the U. S. screen, audiences would doubtless groan or guffaw. Should any citizen of Atlanta behold such a scene on Ivy Street, near Cain, he would...