Word: etiquet
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...barely escaped with his life. Last week he had the satisfaction of seeing Emperor Bao Dai enthroned in the Palace of Supreme Peace. For hours & hours & hours His Majesty had to sit motionless, extending his white jade scepter while brigades of mandarins bowed in batches. According to Imperial Chinese etiquet, now observed exclusively at the Court of Annam, "no man's eyes may rest upon the Emperor enthroned, no woman may be in the Throne Room and the Emperor's eyes must dwell motionless upon utter vacancy as his mind is filled with the August Thoughts...
...French returned Bao Dai to Hue, crowned him in 1926, appointed a Regent and rushed him back to a town house in Paris where he played more ping pong, rounded out his magnificent collection of phonograph disks. Last week he disappeared with finality into the Forbidden City where (etiquet decrees) the Emperor of Annam must live invisible to his subjects, remote, mysterious, awesome...
Public golf courses are dangerous places. Etiquet is not observed as closely as at private clubs. There is a good deal of driving into the players ahead, club-throwing after bad shots, teeing-up-on-the-fairway, kicking the ball in the rough, cursing, gouging of divots. But even public links golfers know that automobiles should not drive across golf courses. One afternoon last week, when a car suddenly burst through some shrubbery and went careening across the Cherry Ridge links in Elyria, Ohio, scores of public linksmen, hurrying around to get through before dinner, grew righteously, furiously indignant...
...never has been with his regiment at Shanghai. The chief sacrifice which Crown Prince Chichibu is called upon to make derives from the fact that his brother, Emperor Hirohito, has no manchild. Until the Sublime Emperor has a son (he has had four daughters) Japanese etiquet demands that Crown Prince Chichibu have no child whatsoever. Four years ago he married merry Setsuko Matsudaira who was schooled in Washington. D. C. while her father was Ambassador...
...Shaw went to work at 15, rose to be a cashier before he decided to seek his literary fortune in London. Painfully shy, Shaw's eyes would fill with tears "at the slightest rebuff." First thing he did in the British Museum was read all the books on etiquet. For nine years he wrote unwanted novels and was a complete failure, then his music criticism caught on. When Harris was editor of the Saturday Review he made Shaw his dramatic critic. Shaw's weekly column became a brilliant event...