Word: blackness
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...lunar day passes 9/1000 as fast as an earthly one, and took a picture of how dawn comes to Copernicus, one of the moon's biggest pits. Because the moon has no atmosphere, there is little or no crepuscular glow. The sun ''rises" abruptly, deep black shadows retreating sharply before it. In the Arnott film, shown last week by Princeton Professor John Stewart, the silver edge of a lunar morning creeps up the steep walls of the volcano, two miles high. Long shadows of the craggy rim are cast across the crater floor within, slowly shortening until...
...ought to go on the stage. They made fun of her deep, mournful voice, telling her they liked the way she sang. One night she ran away from home leaving a letter informing her father that she would never come back until she was famous. She plugged black-face songs in movie houses until, in 1907, she got a vaudeville contract at $12.50 a week. One day when she was in burlesque her trunk didn't come and she had to sing without her blackamoor makeup. Her comedy went over better...
...blood. Shells whistle, our senses sharpen. We feel the animal in us. we want to hide in the earth. An uncertain red glow spreads along the skyline before us. Great heavies boom like an organ. Smaller shells howl, pipe, hiss. Searchlights sweep the dark sky, halt, quiver on a black insect? the airman. He falls. A bell rings?Gas! I remember the gas patients coughing out their burnt lungs in clots. I don my mask. Like a big, soft jellyfish the gas floats...
...because of the upsetting effect of a bad thunderstorm, stampeded a bunch of horses on their way to the corral. There followed a thundering herd effect which would have gladdened any cinemactor's heart. The lightning flashed. The thunder banged. The cowboys whooped. The horses, led by a black mustang stallion, galloped. Gumbo mud spattered. Arrived at the camp the horses, thoroughly out of control, splashed through the shallow water-pool, soon left wet and weary horse catchers far behind. "It's a part of the game," said Catcher Skelton...
Much credit for Yale's triumphs must go to Dean Meeks, who has built up the faculty and student personnel of his school. He is 50, a roly-poly little man with a swarthy moon-face, merry squinting eyes, black mustache and knobby goatee-a small Sultan in mufti. A native of Mount Vernon. N. Y., he is an alumnus of Yale, studied architecture at Columbia University and in Paris. He worked as a draughtsman with the famed firm of Carrere & Hastings. In 1914 he began practicing for himself, still executes an occasional design. He is a bachelor...