Word: crawls
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Since Helene Madison retired from amateur competition in 1932, Lenore Kight has been the ablest U. S. female practitioner of that super-development of the old-fashioned "crawl" which modern swimmers loosely describe as "free-style." Brunette, 22, she is a shade less effective than her rivals photographically, a shade faster than any of them in the water. She learned to swim at the athletic club of the Carnegie Library of Homestead, Pa., where famed Jack Scarry is the swimming coach. Last week Lenore Kight demonstrated more firmly than ever her current eminence in her specialty. She won free-style...
...earthiness to outlast such monuments as Manhattan: "In your subways, where now rumble steel cars jammed with people, will lie in lazy putrefaction rolling water, green and slimy. But somewhere dust-covered volumes will hold the glory of the marvel city, one and all, while the scorpions here shall crawl from their hiding, presaging rain to a simple folk who have no barometers. For simple folk never perish. Never ! They hide away from the crushing march of your progress. They are the wheat kernels of humanity, and the salt of the earth...
...champion swimmer named Mary Veronica Donahue, started to raise Mary, Dorothy, Joe, Ray and Donald Ruddy. Ruddy children were taken for their first swim at 11 months. At 2½ years, they were carried to the ocean, dumped into the breakers. At three, all were expert in the crawl. Girl Ruddys were trained until they won all the swimming prizes at their summer camps, then permitted to bathe for pleasure only. Ruddy boys received more rigorous instruction. The youngest, Donald, now 20 and preparing for college, is a regular on the N. Y. A. C. water polo team. Joe Ruddy...
...Luxe (by Louis Bromfield & John Gearon; Chester Erskin producer) is the kind of play which is so embarrassingly bad that it makes a playgoer's flesh crawl. Billed as "a play about the end of an epoch," it presents a frieze of specious, spotty and purportedly War-wrecked characters against a recent Armistice Day celebration in Paris. Rarely encountered outside the pages of bogus novels, these gloomy folk go about telling each other that they are "so tired," complaining of "the jitters," wishing they were dead. Once in a while one encourages another to "buck...
...floor roaring pitifully. The crowd cheers its delight as the little man dives on top of him, pulls him up, slaps him down, jumps on him, and finally settles down to a toe hold. The ogre rolls his eyes, beats the canvas with his fists, tries to crawl to the ropes...