Word: flatnesses
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...line. . . . I am acquainted with no more essentially sluggish, improvident, resourceless, unambitious, and time-wasting creature than the ordinary professor of forty, nor anything more empty of adventure or hope than the future years of his career, daily to be occupied in matching his wits with the flat modiocrity of successive generations of adolescent C-students, and patiently waiting till the death of some better man, hardy and long-lived, allows him to slip into a larger pair of old shoes...
...program this evening is announced as follows: Novelette in F-sharp minor Schumann Scherzo in A Major Beethoven Rhapsody in B minor Brahma Burlesca Scarlatti Le Carillon de Cynthere Couperin The Little Windmills Couperin Descriptions Automatiques Satie Preludes in A minor and B flat Bach Mazurka in C sharp minor Chopin Prelude Scriabine Prelude in C major Prokofieff March Prokofieff Impromptu in F minor Schubert
...time on the altar of public service. Growing boys are crying out for an athletic example, old men's eyes will flash with ancient fire at the spectacle of his skill and might, young girls will realize that none but the athlete deserves the fair. Nevertheless, he is flat broke. The adulating world, he now says, must remedy his situation; this is the picture of buncombe which springs into most people's heads...
Gordon, who finished the first day's play with a burst of speed which enabled him to take six games in a row, succumbed yesterday before the steady brilliance of Whitbeck's game. The winner's shots were severe, and his flat drive repeatedly passed Gordon at the net or streaked down the side lines for placements. Whitbeck was getting length into his strokes, and his overhead net play and volleying were the best he has displayed this fall...
...that evening Paul Berlenbach, a onetime taxi-driver with an extraordinarily brutal and stupid face and enormous muscles, won the world's light-heavyweight championship from shifty, tired Mike McTigue. His methods was to plough flat-footed after the Irishman, taking two punches to one for the occasional privilege of bringing home his cemetery left. The referee's decision was unpopular. "A champion is ut," McTigue's followers queried, "that ham an'egger?" They were consoled only because they had seen, in a preliminary bout, a light-heavyweight boxer whose speed and rhythm surpassed anything...