Word: faces
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...upon the canvas of a falling body. Several seconds passed and what was left of Heeney remained almost motionless. Then the gong rang, ending the tenth round. Heeney's seconds carried him to his corner, poured water on him, rubbed him, wiped some of the blood off his face, got him on his feet for the eleventh round. Courageously, he delivered two or three blows, but received a dozen which made his knees bend and his back feel the ropes. Referee Edward Forbes, night sports-editor on the Brooklyn Eagle, stepped forward and stopped the fight, awarding Champion Tunney...
Foot Wrenched. Pain sharpened the lines of His Holiness' usually serene and always amiable face last week. Descending from the papal automobile for his diurnal promenade in the Vatican gardens he wrenched his right foot. After a day in his private quarters he forced himself to give his usual audiences in the throne room. The pain continued. So public, but not private, audiences have been suspended for the present. Before his election to the Papacy he was a doughty mountain climber. Age, not immuration, is responsible for his present frailty. Next May His Holiness will be 72 years...
...knew the cause wasn't slavery, "that stale red-herring of Yankee knavery"; he knew it wasn't even states' rights. Vaguely he sensed it was a conflicting temperament, a difference in culture, North and South: A voice, a fragrance, a taste of wine, A face half-seen with candleshine, A yellow river, a blowing dust. . . . In the North, Jack Ellyat pitied the fugitive slave, "a black man with the eyes of a tortured horse," but he thought of new states crowding to be admitted to the Union: The buckskin-States, the buffalo-horned, the wild Mustangs...
...voluminous black, greets him with the news of his wife's death. He goes to the corpse, led by a young nun who lures him with mischievous eyes, and a lovely hand "passive as a sleeping bird." In the quivering candle glow the composure of the dead face mocks him, and his embarrassed relief reacts with an extraordinary smile. Contagious, it starts wickedly on the pained faces of the attendant nuns, like "subtle flowers opening." The mischievous young one strangles her smile with sobs on the Mother Superior's bosom, but the husband rushes, with his, down...
Said Sir Hugh Percy Allen, Director of the Royal College of Music: "At every turn, wherever we go, music is made a stop-gap to fill the silences which today humans cannot face. People are terrified of silences, so they have music and I consider it a great insult to music." Here the musical knight drew breath and a jazz-orchestra began bleating in the next room. Said he: "That finishes it, and I sit down...