Word: kemp
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...high encyclopedia fund). At precisely 10:40 a.m. there was a rustle at the rear of the gym and a voice rasped: "Push 'em back! Push 'em back!" Behind a wedge of deputies, to the roar of yells, applause and cheers, Louisiana's embattled Governor, Earl Kemp Long, walked waveringly to a chair next to the judge, acknowledged the ovation with a tight smile and upraised arms and sat down...
Dressed in white pajamas and bathrobe, Louisiana's fleshy, silver-haired Governor Earl Kemp Long received a visitor in Galveston's John Sealy Hospital last week. It was Galveston County Deputy Sheriff Gerald Leslie. "Well," cried Earl Long, "I'll be damned. Here's a Texas Ranger! At least I know the law is on my side. Sit down and let me talk to you, Ranger." The deputy told Long that he had come to serve a writ. Said Governor Long: "I'm glad to know you're helping me. Now, son, sit down...
...told with all the rhetorical flimflam of a Victorian romance, but with the shocking -or comic -difference that what should be the heroine is a boy. Except for this novelty, all the period's literary conventions are present. Crabbe's heterodoxy is an "alabaster" youth named Kemp, as "pure as a moonstone," whose hair had turned white the month after he was sent down from Oxford (for an unspecified offense). Reduced to the martyrdom of earning his keep as a telegraph messenger, Kemp goes blind. Crabbe installs the miserable stripling in his rooms, fills out his "exquisitely pale...
...lovely little person" spends his days knitting towels (which Crabbe hawks after dark on the streets), reciting Euripides and telling his benefactor, "Oh you're inimitable." The affair does not last. Kemp recovers his sight and encounters an old friend, an officer in the Horse Guards named Theophanes Clayfoot. In high Victorian style, this "howling swell" sweeps Kemp off to his manor, and Crabbe is left faint with starvation, beset by creditors, an outcast. "Festering in his shell," he is "alone and naked -all alone with The Alone...
...Harry Kemp, whose work is familiar to anyone who has bought a calendar in any of the fascinating gift shops of Provincetown, asks his readers "I wonder if it's worth the game/To be thus affable and tame?" and gives us two more poems as well. And other poets, too interesting to mention, are also there. The only good bit is an amusing lazy poem called "Summer" written by Dorothy Pollock-Watson and fun to read...