Word: crystall
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...London, earlier in the week, Prince George, youngest son of the King Emperor, entered the booth of a crystal-gazing fortune teller, laid down a crown. . . . "Your father," said the seer, "was a sea captain but he has retired." Prince George nodded encouragement. His father, the King Emperor, did indeed command H. M. S. Melampus in his youth. "Your eldest brother . . . wait, young man . . . you must warn him! I see him in the crystal. . . . It is tomorrow. He rides in a race and I see him fall. . . ." Laughing, Prince George strode from the booth. Later he warned Edward of Wales...
...Hugh Ferriss plans skyscrapers of glass-the kind that permits health-giving ultraviolet rays to come in-threaded with steel beams. Last week he showed to newsgatherers a model which he had designed for next month's Machine Age Exposition in Manhattan-a little structure like a faery crystal palace strung with moon-shafts. In exchange for a minimum of privacy, which could readily be increased by movable screens, workers in actinic glass houses would get a maximum of insurance against rickets, pneumonia, tuberculosis. . . . Other exhibits prepared for the Exposition, to which engineers and architects are coming from...
...CRYSTAL AND A MOTHER? Ellen du Pois Taylor?Harper ($2). It was that pudgy Machiavelli, Author Ben Hecht, who first made Chicago conscious of its exciting capacity for sophisticated wickedness. Mrs. Taylor, sprung from nowhere, will now revive the Hechtic excitement. Her wit and style are surpassingly original. Her treatment of esoteric erotics, from the viewpoint of a hard-boiled young Dakota virgin steeped in French novels, is a wide and pleasant departure from the lucubrations of Mr. Hecht's rather sleazy males. But Mrs. Taylor's actual material is like nothing so much as 17 more chapters...
Lolling like a plush pansy on the cushioned floor of her boudoir in their suburban mansion, Mme. Clemente vents her jealousy and disapproval of Crystal's wild-honeymoons, by telling all to the newspapers. That is where the narrator comes in, as an astute young literata fresh from the wheat belt, starved for silk lingerie and articulate courtship. An editor from whose gentle, sadistic lip cigarets droop two and three at a time; a svelte social secretary from Virginia who has come through three marriages with a rope scar around her neck and a bright-haired daughter, but without rings...
...Crystal loosened my tight little moral cloak to an unshackling wind and pinned it back with something as hard and bright and impersonal as a star...