Word: madnesses
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Dates: during 1930-1939
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Even this may be possible, Frenchmen readily agreed. They noted, however, that Saar folk have been shipping their francs in a mad rush to France, The Netherlands, Switzerland. Guesses of how much of the original 1,800,000,000 francs now remains in the Saar ran as low last week as 150,000,000. In the Saar meanwhile Nazis whacked together 350 booths in which Saar folk will be compelled to exchange for German marks any French francs or other foreign money they possess after March...
...Mad as a hornet last week because she had not thought of the dream party was Professional Hostess Elsa Maxwell whose living comes from giving unimaginative socialites just such tips on how to have fun. A fat, nervous spinster whose business slogan is "It's too, too divine!" she went from San Francisco to Europe to teach boom-time U. S. millionaires and miscellaneous princelings how to have Murder Parties, Come-As-You-Were-When-the-Autobus-Called Parties, Scavenger Parties, Come-As-Somebody-Else Parties, Come-As-Your-Opposite-Parties, Come-As-the-Person-You-Like-Best Parties...
With photographers on hand, Miss Maxwell permitted four dancers (not debutantes) to put their forefingers under her thighs and armpits. All five breathed together, the girls lifted and Miss Maxwell levitated nervously. Back in her chair, she shrilled: "I think it mad fun, utterly mad! I shall introduce it at my party for Noel Coward. . . . Why not toss the subject into the air and then run? It's a splendid way to snub an unwelcome guest. . . . Do it again...
...first performances of Fools Rush In, many a spectator had an unsettling suspicion that he was going mad. This was due partly to the program, which seldom jibed with what was going on onstage, partly to the material presented. There was a number called "A Chorus Girl in the Country" in which a strange looking baggage came out, flitted stiffly about the stage, went through a pantomime to suggest milking a cow, then flitted ott again. A handsome, Junoesque blonde named Betzi Beaton (Follies) stared wall eyed at the audience, blew a few soap bubbles, huskily mumbled a few incoherences...
...feel nauseated. And, doctor, I can't help vomiting. These attacks have been coming over me more frequently. I used to be able to hear perfectly clearly in spite of the buzzing in my ears. But now I am getting deaf. And, doctor, I'm afraid I'm going mad...