Word: flatly
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...last week the American Society of Miniature Painters was able to hold its 35th exhibition in Manhattan. Months ago each artist bought little slabs of ivory, preferably from tusks of a live elephant. The ivory was smoothed with pumice stone, soaked in water until pliable. When pressed stiff and flat each slab was cut for size. Omitting the gum, glycerine or honey the ancients used to make paint stick to chicken skin, mutton bone, vellum or copper, 20th Century miniaturists daubed on pure water colors. Then they had something they could sell, if a portrait, for from...
...year, earns about 10? a word for his United Feature column: "The piece has been accumulating compound interest, so to speak, for more than 60 years.... I have heard of Mr. Tennyson that he made a contract to sell his entire output to one publisher at a flat rate of $5 a word, sight unseen, and that the publisher suspected him of bad faith when Mr. Tennyson wrote "Break, break, break On thy cold gray stones...
...will outlast the present and probably the next." Economists will not agree with his derogatory attitude towards economics, which he makes subservient to politics: "This whole crushing depression is purely and simply the result of the decline of State power." Marxists will be enraged at Spengler's flat statement that the World Revolution "has reached its goal," is an accomplished fact. They may regard as an undeserved compliment his charge that "the world-economic crisis of this year and a good many next years is not, as the world supposes, the temporary consequence of war, revolution, inflation, and payment...
...finals of the 45-yard high hurdles for the N.E.A.A.U. championship, Harvard placed two men, J. J. Hayes '34, and Richard Hayes '36. Richard Hayes garnered second place, trailing R. E. McLaughlin of the B. A. A. The time was 6 seconds flat...
...sustain violent shock are advised that they read this book on their own responsibility. AND THE PUBLISHERS REALLY MEAN THIS. The book read, their hackles relapse in disappointment. Though Editor Laing's anonymous tale starts off promisingly enough on horrifying tiptoe, it soon bumps down to the flat policeman tread of any cheerful murder story. David Saunders, narrator of the tale, was a poor hard-working student at the Altonville State Medical School. Like most others, he admired Dr. Wyck's brains, disliked his brutality. But in spite of small-town rumor he never con sidered Dr. Wyck...