Word: lording
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...interpretation of Hamlet, Louis Leon Hall and Irby Marshall as the king and queen being particularly satisfactory. Philip Quin in the part of Polonius somehow tails, in the opinion of the reviewer, to give an altogether persuasive representation, but, inasmuch as the true character of the Lord Chamberlain is largely a matter for opinion. Mr. Quin's playing of it is also a matter for personal prejudice. In portraying Polonius almost too capably as a pronounced senile imbecile, it is inevitable that the force of Polonius' farewell to Laertes is impaired...
...Baron Talbot de Malahide, visited his Scottish estates, the Castle of Auchinleck. Rummaging in a closet, his hand found a peculiar trunklike cabinet, made of a dark and heavy wood. In its drawers and cubbyholes there were a lot of old papers, so soft they made no noise when Lord Talbot shuffled them together and lifted them out of the box. Very gently, burning with excitement as if he had been touching gold, Lord Talbot laid them on a desk. Then he began to read slowly, the words his great-great-grandfather had written so long ago. Corsica, land...
When he returned to his Malahide Castle in Ireland, Lord Talbot took the little box with him. At Malahide, not long ago, he entertained a friend, one Col. Ralph Isham, who, when he left Ireland, took with him in a suitcase the papers which had once been in the ebony box. The box, now like an old and honored castle made unfit by time for habitation, stayed at Malahide...
...Contents. When he arrived in Manhattan, Colonel Isham re fused to divulge the price he had paid for the contents of his suit case. He admitted that to secure them had been difficult because Lord Talbot had viewed the old let ters as a peculiarly private account of his great-great-grandfather's charms and indiscretions rather than as an important literary discovery. Successful where other collectors had failed, Colonel Isham took the suitcase to the safe-deposit vaults of the Guaranty Trust Co. where, in an ivory twilight that smelled of oil and steel, he showed all his treasure...
First, there were 30 pages of the manuscript of the Life. These had not been closed in the ebony trunk, but had, since the death of Boswell, reposed in a Scottish garret where the air was as damp as oatmeal. When Lord Talbot stooped to gather this sheaf of merry memories, the bundle had crumbled in his hand into a little flutter of yellowish flakes. Only 30 pages could be gathered again. These, a gay jumble of antique anecdotes, had been joined and backed with gauze so that they might last perhaps forever. The manuscript of An Account of Corsica...