Word: hazing
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...been subtitled "the next best thing," and it is truly the next best thing on the current Metropolitan program. Against the background of that baronial Ireland which his own plays made popular, Mr. Fiske O'Hara disports with his comely daughters, Janet Gaynor and Margaret Lindsay. All is a haze of moss, lichen, and the soft tints of old stone, with a plethora of brogue and much quasi-Irish sentiment, which is to say that "Paddy" is closely related to "Sweetheart Darlin'," and at a respectful distance from Synge and Lady Gregory. Warner Baxter is very rich, the Adairs...
Before the conference broke up at 11 p. m. in a haze of tobacco smoke, the President's ablest financial advisers had thrashed over a wide field of problems with him. Currency inflation was not discussed; the President wanted to try other things first. But credit inflation was, at length. One reason that NRA was failing to produce results was that codified industries had trouble borrowing money to finance new costs before new profits accrued. Why? Because many banks were hoarding their commercial credit. Why? Because they wanted to be completely liquid to qualify under the new deposit insurance...
...knows, are unlike the newspapers of any other month. In August the temperature rises higher than the melting-point of even hard-headed city editors, and almost anything may happen. The reader, too, contributes to the confusion. Some newspaper headlines are hard to decipher in mid-January, but the haze of heat distorts even those which make sense. For instance, when the Drifter read in the Herald Tribune on August 14 that "Hull's Kin Visits His Frigate," it was quite natural, in view of the recent unpleasantness at London, that he should think of Cordell. What was his amazement...
From a flying start in front of the grandstand Roscoe Turner and Jimmy Wedell vanished neck-&-neck into the haze. At the end of the first 10-mi. lap Turner roared around the home pylon in the lead. But when they popped out of the mist again, null was in front. Then Turner took the lead, held it to the end of the race...
...Vagabond's spirit slid down the scale like a planist's finger on a descending glissando. It sunk back into reality on the Esplanade where the crowd was chattering and chewing. Infinitely far up over in the east, a little star burned and its light pierced the haze and noise like a burnished steel point. The Vagabond stole away softly and followed...