Word: lot
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Year ago Morris Joseloff wandered into London's International Art Galleries on St. James Street, was shown two Reynoldses, a Gainsborough, a Hopper, a Sebastiano del Piombo, a "Master of Frankfurt." Because he badly needed money, said Gallery Director S. M. Salomon, he would sell the lot to Mr. Joseloff for ?8,000 ($46,625). Mr. Joseloff agreed to buy provided Mr. Salomon could produce certificates of authenticity, planned to hang his new acquisitions with his already authenticated Corot, Velasquez, Romney, Constable. When Mr. Salomon promised to mail the certificates, Mr. Joseloff paid, sailed, with pictures...
Author Hoover thinks the New Deal a lot of dangerous nonsense; all business needs is confidence that the Bill of Rights is still in force. "Recovery from this depression is inevitable, though it may be slowed up by government policies. . . . If confidence were restored in the securities of Liberty we should move forward irresistibly." Though he does not believe that revolution has yet "swept the United States . . . there are some who are trying to bring it about." With real, unconsciously revolutionary passion he prophesies: "The spark of liberty in the mind and spirit of man cannot be long extinguished...
...Well, lot's stick it here, anyway," said William with a good-natured chuckle, indicating a spot some five yards back of the place where the ball actually...
...explanation of the experts on this subject gave credit to the coony tactics of one Dave Morey, the Bates coach who specializes in surprising the bigger fellows. This same Dave Morey didn't have an awful lot to say just before the game but he did volunteer the information that he had given up all hope of even furnishing Harvard with the slightest opposition. "On a good day we might have given you a fight. But now . . . . . .", with a sweeping gesture he indicated the hopelessness of the situation...
Refusing to be catalogued and classified as "a nice lot and bright," "meek," "Bohemian," "hearty and robust," and "swanky," the college girls retort with epithets and descriptions frank enough to disturb the most indifferent men. How disillusioned and perplexed must be the Freshmen who discovers a stupid Radcliffe lass or a Bohemian Wellesleyian. What tragedy and grief to find the Guide had erred. His weighty problem still unsolved where can he turn for guidance and initiation? The dank silence of his lonely room give forth no answer and his brooding only lessens his faith in humankind. Most miserable...