Word: dank
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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Last week from the dank black recesses of the mines, great brown rats, black with coal-dust, scampered. Up long, inclined shafts they crawled, their beady eyes blinking in the light. Not long before, the miners, their faces smudged a ghastly grey, had straggled wearily up the shafts. The soft coal strike began in the central competitive area, including Illinois, Indiana, Ohio and western Pennsylvania, and in the adjoining states of Iowa, Missouri, Kansas, Arkansas and Oklahoma...
...orchestra through an orgy of fantasy. A native of Portland, Dent Mowrey, had studied music in Paris, and in dreamy moments had idled over the lle de la Cité, whereon is the Cathedral of Notre Dame. Student Mowrey would enter the felted front doors, would sniff at the dank air, would think he could hear the paint cracking on the pictures. Outdoors, on the grey square, he would crane his head up at the rain-spouts, which old artisans had carved in the appearance of fantastic beasts. They were gargoyles, that seemed to droop their eyes in mischievous lure...
...ventilate. With all the clever conceits of modern architecture one might reasonably suppose that a pure environment could be provided for those whose lot it is to spend hours over sometimes arid pages. If surroundings influence character, Harvard's contribution to the realm of thought threatens to be amazingly dank...
That music-what was it? In the dank fastnesses of the jungle along the banks of the Rio Parima, towards whose source the white men were hacking their way,, stirred unearthly strains. "Debbils," groaned the natives. "Station KDKA, Pittsburgh," chortled the expedition's justly proud radio expert, John Swanson. A deep, pontifical voice broke the hot silence. "That," explained the man with the ear phones, "is Judge Elbert H. Gary, of the U. S. Steel Corporation...
...anthologies in oils, signed by Fry. A tree from Watteau, a sash from Cezanne, a tilted corner from Guy Pene Du Bois?second-hand oddments tumbled from the artistic property-trunk that is Mr. Fry's memory. Brave among them was a portrait of Lytton Strachey. His beard was dank, red, hedged, jowl and cheek; clammy were his hands; unkissed, unblessed, looked this great author. Students, painters, gazed upon him, went away muttering about the Fire, the Frying...