Word: horned
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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...Mexico City last week the huge front doors of the nation's chief Cathedral groaned on their hinges, swung open as they do only when an Archbishop is installed or dies. In walked a lean, dark man with horn-rimmed spectacles, Archbishop-elect Luis Maria Martínez y Rodríguez, raised by Pope Pius XI from bishop coadjutor of the provincial diocese of Morelia to be Catholic primate of Mexico (TIME, April 5). Within the Cathedral were hundreds of clergy, wearing habits and vestments rarely permitted them in public during recent years, and thousands of poor, pious...
...last two years a young Greek-American has been astounding Europe with his proficiency on the flute. People looking at his trim beard and heavy, horn-rimmed glasses can hardly believe that Lambros Demetrios Callimahos is only 26. People hearing him pipe harmonics and flying chromatic scales think he must be twice that age to have mastered such a clean technique. Yet young Callimahos never bothered with the instrument till he was 14, when somebody gave him a tin whistle. Callimahos went on to a flute, played it all through high school in Asbury Park, N. J. where...
...Schwanendreher (The Organgrinder) which had never been played in the U. S. before. Der Schwanendreher is a concerto for viola and small orchestra, based on traditional German folk tunes. In it Hindemith expanded a song called Among Hills and Valleys into a whole astonishing movement. Bassoon, clarinet, oboe, horn and solo viola made an intricate, lovely fugue out of The Little Bird on the Fence. Critics considered the concerto "work-manlike," "resourceful," "poetic," "often amusing," looked forward to hearing it again in New York this week...
...short with well-developed arm and back muscles. He wore a brief pair of shorts, white socks, and low sneakers that were badly torn. He also wore heavy black-horn rimmed glasses which were protected by a little wire and leather mask. He ran up and down the floor working his legs like pistons, with his hands stiffly beating the air at his sides. He carried his head high and his chest was puffed out so that he looked like nothing more than a cocky Mickey Mouse. Or I could have imagined him as Fanny Brice burlesquing the dance...
...cell where Dantes slept, the cup from which he drank, and for a franc or two you can touch the initials he carved on the wall. Why do such things thrill us? Perhaps it's the secret desire we all have for immortality, for fame. One tourist with horn-rimmed glasses paid his franc and then proceeded to carve his own initials under those of Dantes. But then again another had to be reminded of a big sign in the cell: "Defense d'Uriner Dans Les Prisons." Such is life...