Word: marked
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Dates: during 1950-1959
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...letdown against non-League opponents when it faces a pretty good Brandeis team tonight at 8:15 p.m. in Waltham. Under the youngest coach in the country, 23-year-old Rudy Finderson, the Judges have amassed a 7-7 record and will be looking to go above the .500 mark...
...restored at least a dozen previously deleted episodes, but most of them make the modern reader wonder why the old man should have been prevented for so long from rattling his dead bones. Today Mark Twain's often irreverent notions about God, Bible and his fellow men seem no more fearsome than a day in a college classroom. By the lights of modern determinist psychology, for instance, there is scarcely anything startling in this statement: "Sometimes a man is ... a born scoundrel-like Stanford White*-and upon him the world lavishes censure and dispraise; but he is only obeying...
Autobiographer Clemens never used the chronological approach, scribbled or dictated his recollections at random. But Editor Neider has contrived to fit them into a sort of chronological narrative, in which the reader can follow the broad outlines of Mark Twain's hectic life-his days on a newspaper in Hannibal, Mo. (he worked for board and clothes), his career as printer in St. Louis, silver miner in Nevada, correspondent in the Sandwich Islands, river boat pilot on the Mississippi. Clemens fondly speaks of one "charmingly leisurely boat, the slowest on the planet. Upstream she couldn't even beat...
...Mark Twain became a famous author and an investor in weird business schemes, he also grew crotchety. As Samuel Langhorne Clemens, a garrulous, white-maned provincial literary lion, he strove to climb the social ladder; he was so proud of his scarlet doctor's robes from Oxford that he wore them at his daughter's wedding. But as Mark Twain he sneered at society-and sometimes at himself...
...fifty years old today, on this feast of St. Mark, the beloved evangelist with whose lion heart my own . . . beats like a drum; and if you think that I am going to starve for your benefit, so that you may pirate my work after my death, you are a sillier man even than your pug-dog's eyes and slopping lips would indicate ... I await your cheque...