Word: burthen
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...rest is frequently moving realism, always hampered by bad locution. But what you will remember is the ghostly burthen of fear and futility borne by the voices of shadowy warriors...
...irritated many of them by pooh-poohing blandly: "In 36 years in Chicago, 7 have never been held up, robbed or racketeered." Last week Mr. Strawn had changed his tone, perhaps because he did not have to add specifically to Chicago's embarrassment. He made Crime the main burthen of his retiring-president address. He even offered a neat classification of causes for Crime's since-the-War increase, as follows: "1) The increase and development in the means of communication, hard roads and high-powered automobiles, making the 'getaway' easy. "2) The vastly increased wealth...
...that, loss of hair benefits the intellect. Famine. Sir Daniel Hall demonstrated the waste, in food-units, of lands planted with hops and grapes, but added: "A race that cuts out alcohol in order to multiply is the permanent slave type, destined to function like the worker bees." The burthen of his remarks was the old scare that the world's food supply will some day fall far short of its population. Childhood Memories. Compose yourself, be seated with pencil and paper, write down every thought that occurs to you for two hours. Do this several times and show...
...burthen of the outcry seems to be: "Down with college paternalism." Yale's Dining Hall has been one of its irritation-points. A year or two ago it was renovated; an effort was made to popularize it again with all the students; and the compulsory Freshman Commons became a corollary of the much-heralded plan to bind up the fragments of the first-year class. Apparently the plan has not been received with complete enthusiasm. With antiauthority-interference thickening, the New Haven atmosphere, it is natural that complaints should be raised against the prescribed physical diet as well as against...
...convinced. Mr. Benet breathes up to the ballad; that is his essential lung-power. In the ballad, with its burthen and repetend its flash and glitter and panoply of words, its haunting tonalities, our poet is peculiarly happy. Not that we deny his virtuosity. Mr. Benet can turn from Two Visions of Helen to Italy of the 16th century, hover for a beautiful moment on the Iseult legend, and bob up at 8.30 A. M. on 32nd street all in the space of 2 hours and 97 pages! But and we risk monotony the ballad is his measure...