Word: mists
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...despair and confusion of brokers and speculators, however, tickers still run far behind the market whenever trading waxes fast & furious. Last week, for example, the ticker was several minutes late on four days. One mad day fortnight ago it fell 22 minutes behind, leaving traders groping in a mist of uncertainty. Last week the Stock Exchange fathered a new scheme to help keep traders up-to-the-minute on trading...
...beauty of the book lies in its treatment, in its precise and vivid descriptions of Flemish country life and customs. Van der Meersch has a gift (aided here by highly sympathetic Translator Hopkins) for conveying the mud and mist of the low-lying Belgian country, the bleakness of its villages, the hard craft and knockabout hilarity of its inhabitants. To describe them he strays frequently, and to good effect, from the path of his narrative. Best scenes: a country woman dressing, layer by layer, in her go-to-market clothes; description of a cockfight; Breughel-esque picture of a village...
Yesterday the Vagabond got in his car and bounced merrily down to Fairhaven to look at his boat. The day overhead was dark, and occasional drops of rain and mist spread over his windshield as he made his way through the New England manufacturing towns that lie between Boston and New Bedford, and the harbor looked cold and grey to him as he crossed over the bridge to Fairhaven and pulled through winding slum streets to the yacht yard. The yard looked mournful, too: several fishermen from Nantucket, old home of the whalers, were tied up at the quay making...
...thick mist of mystery the film was studied by the La Follette Committee, its staff and a few other officials, but one description was available last week. Written by the St. Louis Post-Dispatch's Paul Anderson, the story was a clean copyright scoop. Newshawk Anderson, a close friend of Senator La Follette, had unquestionably seen the picture. Some scenes of the riot which left nine men dead or dying...
...tramping over wet hills, bag over shoulder, pushing a golf ball from bog to bog, trap to trap, and every so often sinking a birdie. Time to rise with the dawn, and hark to the lark in the trees by the edge of the lake in the morning mist, and watch the forsythia push forth in glory. And for the evening there's time to push to the metropolis for the theater or a spot of late dancing, just a touch of urban revelry to season the gentle time...