Word: knife
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Tennesseans are a sporting breed, and one of the most famed sporting places in that state used to be a Nashville gambling house and saloon known as the Southern Turf. Within that four-story, knife-thin building some 30 years ago Colonel Luke Lea founded the Nashville Tennessean. Where the roulette table once stood is now the city desk. Trick doors, gaudy ceilings, elaborate decorations furnish a lurid background. A telephone switchboard marks the spot where the Southern Turf's onetime owner killed himself...
With high appetites and eager eyes more than 8,000 responded to Haile Selassie's invitation for a Guebbeur last week. The Emperor merely filled his palace courtyard with freshly slaughtered cattle and opened the gate. Screaming with gusto, each trooper made parallel cuts with his knife in an animal's flanks, seized the end of the strip of flesh between his teeth, pulled with a blood-gushing rip, chewed hard. As usual, the climax of the Guebbeur came a little later when the Imperial Guard grew drunk on the hot blood and cups of potent native mead. Though obliged...
...dramatic ballet. Porgy was to start one song simply, with: "I got a plenty o' nuthin' and nuthin's plenty for me." As the tempo mounted and the crowd joined in, chairs were to rock faster, one old black woman was to take to sharpening her carving-knife, another to whisking her dustcloth up & down like a crazy baton...
...Left, the "true type," according to Joseph Shearing, "of the low agitator of the Paris gutters." Terribly ugly, 5 ft. tall but with an enormous head, he suffered with eczema so badly that it was commonly believed he had leprosy. Charlotte de Corday arrived in Paris, bought a kitchen knife for 40 sous, took a fiacre to Marat's residence where she was refused admittance. She then wrote two letters, flattering him, pretending that she had important information, dressed herself seductively in a gown of loose white Indian muslin, put green instead of black ribbons...
...colored features were swollen and disfigured with sores; his eyes, bloodshot arid yellow-grey, were nevertheless serene. He spoke to her gently. Awaiting her opportunity, she gave him details of an uprising in Caen. When he pushed aside his proof to note the information, she approached him, drew the knife from her pocket and "with one passionate movement she drove it home, straight downwards through the naked breast, up to the hilt, then drew it out and cast it down on the plank. . . . With a raucous cry Marat fell backwards . . . stiffened in agony, his eyes staring, his tongue protruding...