Word: caning
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...their greedy fingers. Eleven o'clock at Belle Isle was the hour. Smith skipped his breakfast to make it on time. With care he picked his Mtire?silk-faced cutaway, striped trousers, silk-topped patent leather button shoes, semi-formal overcoat with velvet collar. One hand picked up a cane; the other put a cigar in a mouth corner. The Brown Derby, above all, was set at an undefeated angle. Away streaked the baby-blue Rolls-Royce, minus any hooting police-escort. Cushioned snugly at Mr. Smith's 'elbows were Mr. Raskob and William L. Kenny, vacation playmates...
Another ritual the author witnessed: garbed as half man, half woman in a ruffled shirt, cutaway coat, silk hat, and cigar stub, Papa Nebo, an hermaphrodite, wrought mysteries with corpses, pronounced the oracle of the dead. Other corpses, zombies, worked in the cane fields, strictly supervised. To a white they seemed rather like gaunt imbeciles with their keeper. But how was it that often blacks had seen their relatives buried, only to find them weeks later in servitude as zombies? In the criminal code Author Seabrook found the weird explanation. Such are the African intimacies that share popularity with Roman...
...Corbett. The other champions,* of whom Tex Rickard made a list before he died, are as well off as ever. But perhaps million-dollar gates are now definitely in the past; perhaps to produce them it was necessary to have the assistance of the man with the cigar, the cane and the brown felt hat who lay last week in the middle of the enormous house he had built, enclosed in a $15,000 coffin...
...born black. Always the master dines frugally and sips sparingly, but he is no total teetotaler. Purring from the garage comes either Mr. Kellogg's own Pierce Arrow or the Secretary of State's Packard. The small man who steps briskly in always carries a cane, and always wears a dark suit or morning clothes-but without a valet the clothes are seldom newly pressed. Speeding to the State Department, the master is perhaps a little sad to find that his right hand man-R. E.†Olds-is gone. As Under Secretary of State...
...hotel on a sunny spring morning, starts gaily down the Champs Elysees to the first walking theme. Taxis stop him first. Their horns amuse him, so four horns came back with him to the U. S. to make their debuts with the Philharmonic. ... On he goes, swinging his cane, past a cafe door where trombones are moaning measures of La Maxixe. On he goes, past a cathedral, or perhaps the Grand Palais, slackens his pace a bit, then passes by on the other side. On he goes over the bridge to the Left Bank and there he stops again, this...