Word: brobdingnagian
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...Paris, cocky William Lawrence ("Young") Stribling touched gloves again with Primo Carnera, the Brobdingnagian Italian carpenter who recently beat him on a foul (TIME, Dec. 9). In the clinches Stribling strained and sweated against a body 85 Ibs. heavier, 12½ in. taller than his own. In the sixth round he hit Carnera in the stomach. Carnera's vast legs buckled. He knelt a minute, then rose. In the seventh round little Stribling's punches angered Carnera. A strange expression contorted his wide face. The bell was ringing as he rushed at Stribling, swung at him three...
Roused perhaps by "Oxford bags", a British lady whose native tact causes her to remain anonymous has recently undertaken the brobdingnagian task of reforming man's dress. She seems to have begun with the idea of how uncomfortable the poor dears must be in stiff collars, boiled shirts, dragging trousers, "kidney-exposing waistcoats", and everything else that makes the male a pleasing object, at least to himself; and ends with the suggestion that, discarding all such modifications of the strait-jacket, men attire themselves in gaudy jumper blouses, short fur coats, bright colored pajamas and shoes of vivid leathers...
...Flagler, Standard Oil Magnate, by Mrs. Max Goldreich, New Zitta, Germany, whose husband ("Professor Armand Sullivan") conducted a physical culture parlor in Manhattan. As possible assuagement for charges not made public, $100,000 was named. In the pages of metropolitan dailies was revealed the face of a marcelled Brobdingnagian, beetle-browed, curly-lipped...
...Cincinnati Enquirer, had had a private wire installed between his Washington office and his home at Palm Beach where he was wintering. Besides, it secured copies of about 100 telegrams sent by Mr. McLean to his aides in Washington or by them to him. It was a Brobdingnagian discovery...
...weather quarrels with Autumn and Winter and does not know to which it shall pay allegiance, I scarcely know what author to pick down from the shelves. As a matter of fact, I have been reading Midwinter, by John Buchan. What a rollicking tale! Of Bonnie Prince Charlie and Brobdingnagian Dr. Sam Johnson. But I have never met John Buchan. Who is there in America who can spin such a romance? George Barr Mc-Cutcheon? Robert W. Chambers? John Marquand? Some day when Stephen Vincent Benét turns his hand to romancing, perhaps he will...