Word: litter
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...tracks in Miami. But for breeders the coursing meet outranks any race because its results determine supremacy of blood lines. Breeders' big money comes from the sale of pups. Untried pups from winning sires & dams bring up to $500. A breeder normally raises about one-third of every litter (from six to twelve whelps). The rest die naturally or are killed because they show no promise. No racing & coursing greyhound ever runs loose. It spends its first year in an enclosure, then goes into intensive training on a diet of hamburger, bran, spinach and bread once...
...legislative action proposed by the Canadian Government with regard to the Dionno litter should be of immediate concern not only to every liberty loving Harvard student but also to every mother and father in the United States. The proposed bill intends that the Misses Dionne shall not be commercialized by the money grubbing vaudeville entrepreneurs of New York and Chicago. It is a direct national slap at the great acquisitive qualities which have maintained the Yankee at the top of the financial heap, and an insult to that maternal instinct which flames inherent in the breasts of all true Americans...
...this point, for no sensible reason, a flapper bride (Heidi Vosseller) comes on wearing a turtleneck sweater, carrying an armful of lilies. Ushers in Prince Alberts appear with flowers in whiskey bottles. The mock marriage is immediately followed by the appearance of a large litter of Princeton children. The one scholar, a janitor with a Phi Beta Kappa key, attempts to sweep up the football hero only to be carried contemptuously offstage on the hero's rugged back. Anticlimax occurs when a Salvation Army lassie snatches off her spectacles, exhibits dancing tights and a rare pair of bright red garters...
...circumstances seem to have demanded stronger measures from a female rat recently observed. At the same time as her litter was removed, a male was placed in her cage. Immediately she drove him to a corner in the forefront of the cage, where he was obliged to stand on his hind legs and to remain so standing, while she excitedly brought pieces of hay, and, literally, walled him in. The hay was patted in place, to the full height of the cage, so that she might not see him. She herself was totally without bedding ultimately. The state of siege...
...heads will wait for more achievement before upping him above MacLeish or Jeffers. A note of challenge to defeat, however, augurs well for the future. "Complaint to Sad Poets" sounds the battle cry: Will you never be done with barking at the moon? . . . The terrier bitch that whelped its litter today Under the barn where the dirt is moist and dark Shames and defies you with the quiet logic Of life that works its ancient way out, knowing No fulness but to live, strongly to live. . . . Cry, sons of earth, blaspheming your parentage...