Word: lunging
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...mighty from their seat; and "ambassadors and such as they grow like asparagus in May, and dukes are three-a-penny." But the music, the whole atmosphere of the piece, is a different matter. It is flowing, Verdian, Rossinian, lightly serious, made of Latin lyricism, not of English lung-power...
Died. Roland F. Knoedler, 76, retired art dealer; of lung congestion; in Paris. Born in New York, he made Knoedler & Co., his father's firm, one of the three most important (with Duveen Bros, and Durand-Ruel) in the U. S. He helped build the art collections of Andrew William Mellon, the late Peter A. B. Widener, William Kissam Vanderbilt, the late George Fisher Baker, Potter Palmer...
...longer will timid members of the masculine contingent be afraid of pouring out the full volume of their lusty lung power for fear the good looking girl across the aisle will think them crude; no longer will they be forced to interrupt the process of making a date with the one-and-only to join in the raucous shouts of the Big T., and under the new plan the men need not be afraid that some other fellow is beating his time, because the co-eds will be sitting in the balconies alone with out benefit of male Trojans...
Sons takes up the tale where The Good Earth dropped it, at Wang Lung's death. His three sons, Wang the Landlord, Wang the Merchant, Wang the Soldier, divide the property. Wang the Soldier, who likes to be called Wang the Tiger, takes his in cash. He has a scheme to revolt against his aging general, lead the best of his troops to another province and set up as a war lord for himself. His scheme succeeds, and when he delivers his chosen province from the tyranny of The Hawk, brigand in residence there, he finds his career ready...
...conversation. One is a young scientist returning to Africa to continue his exploration, the other an Anglican missionary going back to his jungle parish. As often happens they talk about their careers; and the scientist, a bit embarrassed at talking so much, tells of his search for Kamongo, the lung fish, who, when the dry season domes along, buries himself in the harioning mud and lives by merely breathing through an air hole, and who dis when you put him in water for any length of time...