Word: brick
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...staging what proved to be a combined football game and babbitts' revel. To drum up publicity, one Hugh K. McKevitt, Illustrious Potentate, ardent Mystic Shriner, tossed a football from the 23rd floor of the San Francisco Telephone Co. Building. Then he tossed another- and another-and another. Meanwhile Brick Muller, famed Californian right end of the "All-Westerns," scampered about 320 feet below and finally caught Potentate McKevitt's fourth downward pass. Baseball fans recalled that the hard-centred spheroids employed in playing their favorite game have been successfully caught (by catcher Street of the Washington "Senators...
...dead silence for one minute and twelve seconds during the course of a speech which he was making in Borough Council anent labor conditions. Resuming his speech, he declared: "You have just sat and fidgeted through the 72-second eternity which it takes the average workman to lay one brick...
...malformed in sculpture, but he never entered into controversy. His last public appearance was at the dedication of the Lincoln Memorial by President Harding. Even then he declined to be a guest of honor. So whether he is at his summer home at Manchester, Vt., or his big Colonial brick mansion at 3014 "N" Street, N. W., at the Capital, Mr. Robert Todd Lincoln attracts no attention from the public...
...woods and fields that a century ago lay just outside the college gates are now laid out in monotonous brick suburbs and great industrial plants, and in this dull mess of modern buildings the University stands as a tiny oasis of gray stone and green gardens...
...turned away from the brilliant stage, and strode down a side street into blue shadows. I felt the rolling, uneven footing of brick. A narrow walk it was, and scarce wide enough for two; often I brushed against rough walls. Once when a lamp sent out a swelling yellow glow I saw an ancient house, primly white, with great green shutters bent forward a little, standing in silence as if listening to ghostly voices and the clump of buckled shoes, now so long silent...