Word: felt
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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When Canberra became live news last week on the eve of its emergence as a great capital, many a sterling U. S. citizen felt acute shame at ignorance of almost everything about Australia except its rank as a British Dominion and its position in the Southern Hemisphere...
When I first saw the cover of the Lampoon's Wonder-Book, I felt sure I should enjoy the number. One could hardly imagine a more charming prelude--a boy and girl wandering across a fairy heath where on near the witch tree and far from the enchanted castle they meet a glant and discover elves; all this in exquisite tinis and April airlness. What a clever hand Philip Boone must have, I said; and I turned to the pictures within to see how the other articles had expressed the spirit of whimsey which must twinkle in story books...
Last week a great flood of carefully prepared talk about such composers as Beethoven, Tchaikowsky, Dvorak, Strauss, Wagner, Brahms, was heard all over the country in felt-carpeted apartments and soundproof cubicles which have for years echoed with arguments and ecstasies over Paul Whiteman, Irving Berlin, Al Jolson, Van & Schenk, Harry Lauder. The Victor Co. last week set out to make "his master's voice" the voice of the masters. Of all the factors that have made the U. S. suspicious, as a nation, of any music less candid than jazz and coon songs, no factor is more important...
...masculine attire. A day or so ago, there appeared at the Bourse, just at the moment when business activity was at its highest, a young man dressed in an extraordinary costume consisting of buckled shoes, long silk stockings, satin knee-breeeches, an ordinary vest and sack coat, a felt hat, and a cane. For a few moments business stopped and the crowd stared at his costume and admired his courage and then in contradistinction to the enthusiast who became so enamored of classical culture that he wandered about the streets of New York in the costume of the ancient Greeks...
...which the America of today presents, can be directly attributed to the single mindedness with which we as a nation have embraced industrial success as the standard of achievement. But the hollowness of a philosophy of life, which leads to nothing more substantial than mere progress, is already being felt with a poignancy, which even the Nirvana of Coolidgism has failed to allay. And in tracing the fading of the golden day into the gilded dusk, Lewis Mumford is voicing a discontent with the present idols, to which the pens of such widely different types of writers as Professor Babbitt...