Word: featherers
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What this formless interlude in French upper-middle-class family life has got is a characteristic, plush-lined Gilbert Miller production and a fine cast of actors. Chief among them is Sir Cedric Hardwicke, never before seen on a U. S. stage. An exponent of the feather-touch, as the timid, pale grey little Parisian father, his gentle intonations and delicate gestures seem to indicate that he is afraid that grosser activity might jar him loose from the stage and send him floating up in the flies. In direct contrast to Sir Cedric's placidity is Irene Browne...
...even more amusing to the general public. Entitled "New York at the Turn of the Century," it presented: a 1902 single-cylinder Oldsmobile, driven by a couple in dusters, goggles, veils, and beside it the elegant open caleche of Mr. Harris Fahnestock containing a frock-coated dandy and his feather-boaed wife. A tandem bicycle with a boomer girl in front, a Norfolk-jacketed scorcher behind. An exhibition of the iron-clad blue serge bathing suits suitable for Far Rockaway in the days of Theodore Roosevelt. A genuine Morris chair, a cylinder phonograph, a pianola. Photographs of Olga Nethersole...
...that lasted till Yale's second score and then died into despair but came bounding back again with the second-half surge. My voice gone midway the third period, creaking come on, come on, come on, come on. An Eli somehow in the seat ahead of us. One blue feather in a sea of crimson. Pummelling the Eli when we got our second touchdown...
...press box, typewriters clicked busily. It was a contest between two closely matched teams and many hopes, reputations and even dollars rested on the uncertain outcome. But seated next to our correspondent was a blase young thing, sweetly dressed in red, wearing a fetching red hat, with a red feather protruding from the back of it at an even more fetching angle. However, despite her apparent Cantabridgian sympathies, her eye was not on the game, as she looked curiously from side to side. Her attention was not brought back to the field until a Harvard pass was intercepted, when groans...
...homely as a hedgehog," said this frank reader, "my only good feature being my blue eyes. . . . Don't you think it would be a feather in your cap if you could be the one who changed this very ugly duckling into even a pale pink swan? If you have any of Pygmalion in you, please be a sport and help...