Word: mackerels
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...star pitcher of Shelburne's baseball team. Lately he pitched a no-hit, no-run game against Lockeport. Last week Alfred Kenney gained greater kudos. All summer he had been hearing about the sport-only a few years old in Nova Scotia-of catching giant bluefin tuna ("horse mackerel" to old salts) on rod & reel. Up the coast at Liverpool a Cuban team had just won this year's international tuna matches from a U. S. and a British team, in a tournament that fizzled sadly when some killer whales hanging off that harbor scared the big tuna...
...Original Mackerel...
Representative Hamilton Fish's strictures on the New Deal seem to have overtaxed his native stock of invective and sent him quarrying in the works of our early masters of vituperation. His recent characterization of the WPA ". . . Like a dead mackerel in the moonlight, it stinks and shines and shines and stinks" (TIME, July 18), rather ineptly retains the stench but loses the shine of the original simile which eccentric John Randolph of Roanoke applied to Edward Livingston over a century ago: "Fellow-citizens, he is a man of splendid abilities, but utterly corrupt. Like rotten mackerel by moonlight...
Charles Webster Hawthorne was 27 years old, had put in a few years as an art teacher, when he settled in Provincetown, Mass, in 1899. At that time Provincetown was a fishing village inhabited largely by Portuguese. A Chicago visitor said that Provincetown ladies decorated their hats with mackerel gills and swept their floors with halibut fins. But to Hawthorne, Provincetown's great natural resource was its summer light- brilliant and untempered, making houses, sand and wharves blaze against their backgrounds. In an old sail loft he established an art school. Before his death in 1930 it attracted...
...though often profane, seldom bitter, Harry Hop kins becomes aroused when WPA is at tacked. One of its loudest critics lately has been Representative Hamilton Fish of New York who last month said of WPA that "the whole rotten mess stinks to high heaven and, like a dead mackerel in the moonlight, it stinks and shines and shines and stinks...