Word: mouthing
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...with long, nervous fingers the snippy opinion that it was "distinctly of the old school." On reading this, Mr. Smith saw red, turned radical with a vengeance. He daubed upon a canvas the weirdest monstrosity conceivable to his infuriated imagination. It showed a crazily proportioned South Sea Island female, mouth crammed to oozing with banana, holding aloft a half-devoured piece of the fruit. In the background gaped a skull. Having splotched every color on the palette over his flamboyant picture, he entitled it, "Yes We Have No Bananas," stuck it in front of his fireplace. "That," said Novelist Smith...
...them was the second brigade, 500 men on horseback standing in their stirrups and galloping along, shouting curses or encouragement to one another like polo players. They called themselves the "Rough Riders." Theodore Roosevelt got off a little black horse to lead his men. Leonard Wood was pulling the mouth of a big roan. A few hours later that battle too was won and one soldier told another, as they pulled off their sweaty shirts, how he had frightened a fat Spanish corporal by prodding him with his own knife or how he had weeked the mustachio of a lean...
...into a knot. The veins in his long, thin, white hands began to rise and kept on rising until I thought they would burst and drench all of us with blood. . . . Sacco's neck was swelling to a huge inhuman size. . . . The saliva was literally pouring out of his mouth. . . . Try to compare 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit* [the temperature of the death shock] with 100 degrees in the shade when you complain of the heat and you get some idea how cultured and conservative Massachusetts roasts her murderers alive. . . . And how these Bostonians get a dead...
...whither the characters repair in the second act, and in the end bestows herself upon the victim's eldest son. To many a flashing blade, nocturnal groan, mayhem, is this lady privy. There is a younger son, also. But, unlike the other characters, he keeps his mouth shut occasionally...
...warrior but upon the family to which he returns. Author Feinstein is a poet. In fact he won the Nation's poetry prize in 1922. Hence his disregard for the pedestrian logic of coherent storytelling. In a fine frenzy of disillusion he causes the hero, named Edsel, to mouth his horror of the corpse-strewn Argonne, what time, back on the family farm, he cuckolds his hayseed brother Hiram. For some reason Hiram's wife, Rebecca, believes in life-weary Edsel as the ambassador of a richer existence. After the bucolic Hiram has fled his shame, she stays...