Word: craniums
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Calvin Coolidge's cranium shows a distinct bump on the left side and William Howard Taft's has bumps on both sides...
Though the 289 Mayors steamed with wrath and sweated in the July heat, not a drop of perspiration stood forth upon the bald, pink cranium of Ignaz Seipel. Did they realize, he rapped sternly, that he had only just patched up the break in Austro-Italian relations which occurred when an Austrian mob stormed the Italian consulate at Innsbruck (TIME, June 4), resulting in the recall of the Italian Minister from Vienna. Were they conscious that not until last fortnight did Italian Minister Giacinto Auriti return to Vienna. Under the circumstances, and considering the relative potencies of militant Italy...
...spilled in the name of freedom and self-rule saturates the pages of history. Many an ardent patriot has bitten the dust in this cause since Moses led his party across a courteously-disposed Red Sea to the hoped-for freedom of the promised land. Many a sturdy Gaelic cranium has succumbed to violent pressure for the sake of autonomy in the Emerald Isle. But at least we have come upon the group that is loftily indifferent to self-government on whatever terms. This group simply does not care...
Others. Handwriting experts and phrenologists (inspectors of the hills and gullies of the cranium) are more interested in character analysis than in predicting events. Last week, Ernest Loomis, president of the American Institute of Phrenologists, inspected the files of Manhattan hatters and read character into skulls shaped like bathtubs, pears, eggs. But, said he: "It is the contents and not the symmetry of a skull which counts in the long run." Perhaps that is why numerologists, crystal-gazers, table-tippers, ouija-board-pushers, rhythmical dancers and all-round yogis stop at nothing in time, space, mind or matter. Then there...
Keyserling. The extremely tall, incessantly restless philosopher whose domed cranium and pointed chin give his head the shape of a child's peg top is Count Hermann Keyserling, 47, head of the Darmstadt School of Wisdom, and creator of sensitive, soul piercing books.* Like the humming of a peg top is Count Keyserling's conversation. He chattered and he lectured in perfect English, last week, to lionizing Manhattanites, but so rapidly and with so much finger-waggling that some were abashed and others annoyed...