Word: deeps
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Proudly We Hail told of Manhattan's café society receding from the U. S., setting up as the monarchy of Cafeteria, forming an unhappy alliance with Mussolini & Hitler. With tunes that didn't seem too reminiscent, chorines that didn't sing too deep, ingénues that didn't look too muscular, So Proudly We Hail spurted fastest when it shook off its plot and bounced into revue...
...smelt takes its name not from its peculiar cucumber-like smell but from Anglo-Saxon smeolt ("bright and shining"). It is a small, slender fish with a silvery belly and an olive-green back. Fried like a doughnut in deep fat, it is a distinct delicacy. When smelts are running, they run in enormous schools, can be easily scooped up in hand nets. Last week 20,000 curious tourists were welcomed with open arms by the 15,000 natives of Escanaba, Mich, for that city's fourth annual smelt jamboree...
...deal of technical information thrown in-about steel mills, prize fights, greyhound racing, navigation. Except for Thomas Wolfe's story of racial conflict, The Child by Tiger, and Walter Edmonds' tale of a white woman captured by Indians, Delia Borst, the stories that tackle weighty subjects bog deep in sentimentality, occasionally, as in Jacland Marmur's A Woman of His Own, sink almost out of sight...
Minus the smooth illustrations, the Post stories that hold up best are those in which the authors throw probability to the winds, along with romance and deep thoughts, and go in for straight, oldfashioned, O. Henry farce. Except for the humorous stories and the tales of Thomas Wolfe and Walter Edmonds, main impression communicated by Post Stories of 1937 is one of uniformity, as if the 22 stories and the 479 closely-printed pages had all been cut to pattern by the same expert, precise, unexcited writer...
...must take action," the Vagabond reflected, as he sank deep in his comfortable armchair and watched the blazing logs kindled in his fireplace. "We must take action." How often he had sat in that chair, watching the fire and hearing a soothing voice that urged him thus! Always the fire seemed to catch the spirit of the voice, and respond to its glowing tones with ever more brilliance. Like the voice, it would subside and become quiet for a time; and then, once again, it would burst forth, ever agitated, glowing, ardent...